Unfound
I am used to these ones not being there
Acquainted with truth; that they don’t care
Your weakest efforts to bring me to mind
Are all your strongly willed alibis
On stranger’s tide, one part of my life
They run, then hide, whilst I surf the tides
Alone at sea, my flesh has failed me
Along with it, all humanity
I am used to these ones not being there
An austere life, which is never fair
Nicely deceitful, truly callous
Slighting, painful, proudly ominous
In oceans deep, down in the oozes
The tears; I weep, and all the bruises.
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