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Bag Of Unwanted Bones
The hourglass is almost empty
The candle was almost spent
The compass only points one way
The clock is about to strike twelve
My stopwatch doesn't work anymore
The mirror tells me lies
I no longer know who the stranger is
My bed isn't so comfortable anymore
The picture on the wall has faded
With little definition like it used to before
Even my teeth are not real
My Spectacles I repaired with a bandaid
The family and friends don't phone anymore
Or knock on my door
I feel like a bag of useless bones
So long ago now it seems like only yesterday
But a century ago
My bones were useful back then
I took my time and youth for granted
Too busy chasing girls and drinking in bars
Worked my back off like a mule
Muscles tempered strong and raw Braun
After years of labour in the steelworks
The old places I used to know and go
Either boarded up or knocked down
Echos of the past haunt my mind as I reflect on all the fun we had
Back then when things were simpler than today
My heart yearns as those memories burn inside
I can no longer look forward to the future
As I have none it belongs to the Young
Living in a world of chaos war suffering and crime
In a world I no longer understand
I left my heart in the past of yesterday
And just exist today alone a useless bag of old bones.
Copyright ©
Peter Dome
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