My life has been wasted.
On wasting time.
Waiting for a wonder.
To weave into my life.

A
Better.

Story to sell.
A soliloquy or something.
More succinct.
Some kinda so called solution.

To.
My.

Feeble mind frantically.
Finding faults.
With my forlorn failure.
My fragile forgetfulness.

It's
Just.

My memory keeps me moving.
Measuring the minutes.
Making me melancholy.
And meaning left.

Nowhere to be
Found