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by William Thomas Kinsey

All that's left is flesh and bone
The heart did not endure
You took away its will to live
For that, there is no cure

It's not really quite that simple
But what else could it do?
It doesn't wish to carry on
All it felt, it felt for you

It lives and beats a rhythm
But no longer plans ahead
In the shape it's in today
It might as well be dead

It pumps blood, does its job
It doesn't dream of life anew
That's not hard to understand
For it was broken half in two

Time no longer means a thing
What I have is all on loan
All that mattered is in the past
All that's left is... flesh and bone

Poem ID: 55284   Poem Posted: 2/4/2001
Viewed: 12145  Voted On: 257  E-mailed: 75  Commented On: 7
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Copyright , 1995,  all rights reserved by the author.
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