Wasting away faster than a senior,
Feeding pigeons on his park bench,
Watching life and clouds pass by,
Regretting everything he never did.
Wondering if his saintly demeanor,
Is the only reason that he’s meant,
To wake up wishing he would die,
In hopes of someday being missed.
Wasting away faster than our Christ,
Hanging from the cross in treachery,
Gazing at the sinners that mock him,
Regretting letting them in his heart.
Wondering what it was that enticed,
Every soul that he loves to decieve,
Without any regard to murder or sin,
And no conscience tearing them apart.
Wasting away faster than the model,
Twenty-one long years past her prime,
In search of the beauty she once had,
Regretting living one minute past fifty.
Wondering why love comes in a bottle,
Because the others forgot her in time.
Being around others is why she’s sad,
Since none in a room find her pretty.
Wasting away like an athlete too old,
And feeble to get out of a wheelchair,
That he can’t leave until he’s buried,
Regretting giving up health for money.
Wondering if memorabilia once sold,
Will pay for him to get some fresh air,
Without calling someone to be carried,
To an outside he won’t ever again see.
Wasting away like an inmate in prison,
Serving two consecutive life sentences,
For the crimes that he never commited,
Regretting ever being in this bad place.
Wondering if anyone at all misses him,
Or if these hard years of repentance,
Will one day soon get him acquitted,
Before he lays his own life to waste.
Wasting away like them all on my own,
Failure is the normal routine anymore,
Everyday is a carbon copy of a prior,
Wondering if there is an easy escape.
Regretting having nothing I can show,
For these countless years of effort,
That have left me so weak and tired,
To accomplish our prearranged fate.