WHAT CAN BE SAID

Look at me,

I was never like this before

I smiled a routine way long

and stepped out home at four

I never had this head with me

I was able to walk erect

I’m sure I was a humble some

and was most of the time correct

I really was a moody one

Drank and dreamed for day and night

I won the rounds, I won the rings

But lost from life, In the fight

I used to read

I ought to write

my fate got wrong

But my intentions were bright

I loved to watch the sprouting buds

I loved everything I could see

I lost my love, I lost myself

I lost my “You”, I lost my “Me”

Now I lay down in ground

What they say, “Hundred percent dead”

What else left now that you may ask

Else by me, “What can be said”?