365 Days of Poetry (Part Two)

Day 82: My Eternal Defeat.

Like a bleak, worn-down smile on an old, veteran soldier.

Like a used, torn-up punching bag, just thrown in the corner.

Like a defeated scarecrow, his purpose now no longer served.

Like a one much-loved teddy bear, simply forgotten by this world.

I have my share of scars, patches I have plenty.

I'm ripped at every edge, so many holes within my heart.

I no longer care for them, no more will I cry for these things.

For nothing else has worked for me, and nothing ever will.

Like a slowly dying star, on a night so clear and filled with beauty.

Like a wilted flower in Summer, all alone and without duty.

Like a girl whose light has faded, now a dull glimmer in the mist.

Like a broken soul lost without a home, now striving to merely exist.

I have no reason to fix myself, no, nothing left but fear.

Each new wound is just routine, each new stab expected.

To accept this defeat, I have no other choice, it's now or never.

I must choose to relive that last blow for eternity.

Although it becomes so increasingly fatal.