A ghost of the past, ship without mast,
Adrift in a thimble of wrong.
All the squiggles of what I could be,
Faint fonts of an erstwhile song.
I planned out of life, mediocrity and strife,
I'd rather I be left alone.
The ambition to not have any ambition,
From the future if past takes a loan.
Living nor dead, a rotten head,
Filled with unopened unknowns to be.
This isn't the way to see in light,
Sometimes you need dark to see.
The old trodden trail, wherever I failed,
I can't even begin to rebuild.
Shallow where I stand, no one understands,
What's not there can't yield.
The forgotten voices now,
Fight over zero sum games played.
The players are mere shadows on the wall,
Of what those past whispers had said.
It's now too far, and off the track,
To remedy an overturned wheel.
The bearings are loose, the sense not to choose,
Too numb from past to even feel.
People left me when I needed them most,
And now I really don't want to know.
The very me inside, has bled, now dead,
The shell is a macabre show.
