It was all fragmented
As if some one
Had taken a hammer
To a mirror and shattered
His life and memories;
And all the tiny pieces
That he thought well
Sewn within, were throw
Over the dark waters
Of his black depressing days.
He cut his eyes and hands
Sorting out the sharp and blunt;
And the wheres and whys
Were mixed with the hows
And whens against
The backdrop of his fading
Mind and light decreasing days.
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