
when they cut me open what did they find
a withered heart and a troubled mind
my broken engine with its oil black
muscles and sinews weak and slack
a shrivelled soul extinguished of hope
a brain of mush from alcohol and dope
I knew what was coming so I preempted death
with a listless overdose an easy last breath
with death I claimed release from a life
of never ending misery trouble strife
judge me not I did the best I could
homeless familyless and never any good
Poetry days #41.
All work is my own and subject to copyright. I do not use AI. I do not want Ai to use my work.
Wow… really powerful, and terribly sad.
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I seem to be passing an ever increasing number of homeless people on my way to work in town these days. I feel so powerless, I can’t imagine how powerless they must feel. It saddens me deeply.
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