Picture

As I stare at the picture on the wall
I notice it’s crooked and about to fall
It’s faded, worn out, and shattered
The picture is like me, hollow and haggard.

The picture has a dark and sad beauty
There seems to be a spark underneath the tragedy
The flames of life are now just embers
And the warmth has gone cold like snow in December.

No hope of restoring it, the damage has been done
The cards have been dealt and somebody else won
My heart aches as I watch it fall to the ground and burst
Because in the picture I see myself.