He's out he's lost
He's desperate, he's a ghost
I see him hang his head
His will to live almost dead
I wait for him to unfurl
walking home early
kicking a stone,
disgruntled fury
The stone scratched the sole of his shoe
In his shadow it's clear he's broken in two
Thinking no one cares, life is tough
That the streets themselves sit and laugh
Down that street where his love departed
past his old house that squeezes his heart
Once he was warm dual and together
Now he accepts his solitude forever
He catches up to the stone
That he had kicked hell bent
He picked it up and went
to kiss it gently
For it, like him,
was merely existing
transiently
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