Caught up in a stormy prairie
I ought to seek the old me
Stretched my knees for me to see
Great walls built before i'm thirty

I am gone but there i am
Not a winner or a grand slam
Singing, whining, turn an old jam
Barely living without a glam

Bend and break a twisted faith
Go here not there to love not hate
Crawl, get up and stand straight
Cut loose, be free from dead weight

All seem great and scary
To keep less is more than many
What a shame yours truly
I am lost but not really

Tasting shadow and ash,
I crumble again.
The futility of it all is crushing.
The weight of centuries
grinds my bones to dust
as you stare out your window
at a thick dead sky.

*Why aren't you here?