I keep digging and digging and digging,
     trying to dig myself out of this hole
But it seems everything is collapsing around me
      burying me with my soul.
      This small shovel
  just doesn't seem to be enough,
     No one thought to tell me
         how life could be this rough
Now,
    I'm just getting deeper and deeper
        and deeper
    with my unwanted thoughts
This shall be my grave,
        but don't put any roses on top,
      I prefer **forget-me-nots

Oh ! the empty hole
   That palpitates through my soul
Where nothing consumes all
   And silence is deafening
The cold sun rises
   Hollow
Upon my pale ways

My empty eyes gaze
   into a space
Where I cannot be
   My mouth tastes the chains
Of Freedom bitter in grit and rust
   And my nostrils swell with
The stench of the situation
   And the silence is deafening

As all the while a cold sun
   Rises pale upon my hollow days

Fathering a child
              Does Not Necessarily
Make you a father