Shell of a Man
Shell of a man is what I am,
once loud and proud, now I can't stand.
I once had plenty, and I gave it,
now have nothing, and no friends to take it.
Admired, inspired, alive and on fire
to degraded, jaded, faded and dire.
I cry out to god "why oh why"
but only rain and silence come from the sky.
I've carved and whittled, tried to make something,
till it was all gone and I was left with nothing.
The dice are loaded, I just can't win,
I'm tired of failing again and again.
I'll just resign to hang my head lowly,
what doesn't kill you makes you stronger,
but some things kill you slowly.
Copyright © Robert Whitby | Year Posted 2012
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