axeldesign

A man of good humor, of courage and wit With the intellect of dreams And a vast, spanning spirit. He holds the world, you'd think, at a glance How could you have known Here stood his last chance. He'd worked for the top, and got there, in time To be pushed to the bottom; A coveted mind. He broke in the pit; had no will to mend A good one, astray To his family and friends. When all who were there had suddenly left He became a mere dunce; He'd lost all respect. He desperately turned, to see who had stayed But no one, not even he, A good life, astray.

I rate myself on the scale of wholeness you supplied me, emptyness abruptly subdued by your notice, whole only when present in your thoughts, shredded by one missed phone call, depleated by one interupted glance, torn by the lapse of memory she supplied you. Forgotten.