Dulled

Dulled, not sharp enough to cut through calloused skin Faded and used, bruised from falling too many times Apathetic reactions, no need for emotional value Dried of tears and fears, lack of feeling is always the worst fate Relapsed on sympathy for myself and filling back full of hatred At least feeling can return growing wings without the ability to fly So weep for a world so cold and dark, weep for forsaken souls There was never room for hope it was merely a narcissistic guise How can anyone find a home along these winding streets Covered in black water and sleet, frozen heart barely able to beat Fishing without a pole only leaves these hands to hold disgrace Hungry people starve for attention forgetting to learn to see Filthy and desolate is where we lay our heads Fighting thought until the very end When whispers are louder than shouts The living envy the dead