NOTHING OF ME

I am a mess.
Lying in a broken heap on the floor.
I came all undone.
I fell apart.
I am just a man.
My nature is brokenness.
Half-way gone, already there.
I lost myself somewhere along the way.
Not that I was ever here.
I am sad.
I am angry.
I was born with a broken heart and torn soul.
I never had a chance it always seemed to me.
It just made me afraid.
And the wolves could sense it.
I was hunted down.
I was circled.
I was attacked.
So ravenous were they.
I went down without a fight.
Just look at me now.
Torn and ripped apart.
My bones picked clean.
Nothing of me is left.

SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY