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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #2165024
A piece lamenting a life wasted
I've fallen upon the rocks below,
just above the high tide line.
With my two hundred dreams broken,
one for each of my aching bones,
I do not know how it happened.
So it is here I now lay,
with nothing to come ahead.
Battered.
Shattered.
Alone.
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