Scat Colored Walls
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The septic stench of desolation has followed me
into a quagmire of depression and self-loathing.
And scat-colored walls weep neglect
upon my fragmented soul.
My life is like a puzzle, missing a few pieces,
all jumbled up and fallen into decay,
with no chance of completion.
Dark shadows occupy the empty spaces
where my broken heart harbors
dying dreams and shattered truths,
held together by the opiate of hope.
And like a tattered quilt of guilt,
my future's stitched together by a needle
threaded with tears, fears, and regrets.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
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