graveyard of broken dreams
rusted
hulks of vehicles rise,
like
tombstones amid overgrown weeds,
projects
unfinished, going to seed.
frustrated
goals silent screams
disappointments,
designs undrawn,
forgotten
fantasies, treasures pawned
opportunities
come and gone,
when
they knocked,no one was home.
depression,
no motivation
illness,
poverty, desperation.
suffering
souls, deprivation.
lost
ambition, no salvation.
death's
shadow lingers here
longs
to complete the devastation.
27.
walk on me
I
am tired
of
being a doormat.
every
day
new
feet
dirty,
stinking
big
and
hairy
boots
and
stillettoes
they
all want
the
same thing.
they
walk
on
me
break
my back
expect
me
to
clean
the
mess
they
made
then
they leave.
never
looking
back
never
considering what
it's
like
to
be a door mat.
used
by all
loved
by none
alone
in the end.
28.
our walk is circuituous,
our
work is arduous
our
waking is spontaneous,
yet...
we
wake
we
walk
we
work
we
return.
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