(Hope) Is Just Another Word with a Hole in It - Nothing

Funeral blues

Even dirt weeps

Blooming exit

Brought to a freeze

I have never bothered to look

Inside myself

To find myself

On scribbled notes

Every flower

Thinks of me

My pollination

Resembles debris

I have never bothered to look

Inside myself

To find myself

On scribbled notes

I have never bothered to look

Inside myself

To find myself

On scribbled, cryptic notes

A thousand faces

Not one could replace

A single soul

Consumed by waste

A thousand mirrors

Reflect disgrace

A house of cards

Engulfed in flames

A thousand faces

Not one could replace

A single soul

Consumed by waste

An off-white lie

That’s come undone

Composing suffering

That fall on ears

Of no-one

Of no-one

Of no-one