Written January 8, 2019
Forlorn as a shoehorn
I mourn.
Not just for myself,
But for the scorned.
Torn apart
By this dying world.
Foreign at heart,
Astray in a whirl.
Born from hearts
That we adorn when they depart.
Pouring the generational waters
Of life's art.
Touring the universe
In astral parts.
I remain solemn
As frigid as Autumn.
The nuclear winter at ground zero,
Rock bottom.
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Survivor's Remorse
PoésieSurvivor's Remorse is a personal collection of poetry, songs, lyrics, prose, and more that ranges from the early 2000s through 2023 when I finally decided to start a new poetry book! Thank you immensely to anyone who has taken time to read this book...
