Always fighting,
From the inside,
Breaking the walls,
Of his former pride,

The scattered remains,
Washed by the rain,
Fading all hope,
Of easing his pain,

Searching the puddles,
Through autummal leaves,
Scratching the floor,
For broken beliefs,

Brushing the grain,
From trembling hand,
Mixed with dirt,
And goldless sand,

He crawls away..

Leaving his dignity,
And all that he gained,
In the gutterless hole,
For a moment of fame.