Unfinished Masterpiece

It’s dark here.

And I am all that is left.

The last ship sailed.

Blowing cold smoke from my lips.

Time seems joyful at my dismay.

But this sinking feeling again.

Has been ever present.

I just pushed it away.

Hoping to forget.

I’m an unfinished masterpiece.

Oh what could’ve been?

If you had poise.

If you had a vision.

Or an aim.

But now my skin is now gone.

I wonder with the rest of the ghosts.

Singing my stories.

To those that might listen.

Of the great things I’ve yet to accomplish.