mostly dead but limbs still twitching
racked with constant pain and itching
bones all aching, brains all bitching
trapped behind the mirror writing
rusty hooks with nothing biting
flailing, failing, falling, fighting
still alive though barely breathing
just existing, hardly feeling
anything with real meaning
old mistakes and new beginnings
ghostly voices sing my sinnings
spread the loves, discard my winnings
waiting for that real wind to blow the rest away
nothing lost and nothing learned and nothing left to say
Sing The Sun by Wayne Myers