Searching ghosts are we pondering the graveyards of our past glory years
Broken are we searching for someone to mend it like a hermetic peace of machinery
What are we to become but dust and granulated feelings of anther's lust for power.
Like a traumatized victim; left in the middle of the road of a population overload.
Have I tried hard enough?
Have I giving the blood?
Have I giving the sweat?
Have I giving the tears?
No, I have had them scraped from the slate of my very being.
Ripped off my skin like badges of merit that will never leave my mind; it only scars my pride and chains down my spirit.
You've burned it all down; all that I was and what I left behind in hope that you would fallow.
But it was not enough; it was never enough put this on my tombstone and never forget how I never forgot about you and the pain I felt in my overworked hands was callused over with the love I had for you.
By John McKinley Pride Jr