Woe To You

Woe to you who sift and sieve through all the clutter of my past Finding scraps of meaning that you alone will grasp In all, a worthless lot, be sure as measured by a time of man seeks you, for you: you alone as you sift and scan Woe to you who sift and sort reminiscing this, all for naught Future hopes that never match broken mem’ry caught Be merry! In this sad chore a glimpse of many truth’s here tell May yet escape you of past path’s your fated, prospect; hell.