There isn't a single day to pass,
Not even a moment to usher in.
How badly I got bruised by you,
By your verbatim of slow venom.
A feeble soul I have become,
To be tossed about like a rag.
Splendor is a vice it seems now,
One too many to hold and let go.
I delve into the remnants of the past,
What could have been a life of two.
Hands become fists of empty air,
I come back with a solitary stare.
The clock vigorously takes time away,
I stand straight with the world round.
I shriek,I yell,I jump and I fall down,
No one though hears my sound.

Tags: Past, Introspection, Fragile

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