I'm like a watered plant that refused to bloom
like the unwanted that's trashed by broom
a little closer to nothingness,void and gloom
you can call me a bride without a groom
a man without a room
a city of milk and honey without a spoon
look at me, smell the doom,
the rejection that looms
I'm a living pain whose end is soon.

I see myself in the water's
I watch it swell
the wishing well
I make wishes every day of a 365
I crosse my legs as we approach the harmattan,
me, myself and i.
alone and cold.
making wishes and throwing pebbles
untill our wishing well got dry
untill pebbles filled our only source of hope,
I'm living pain whose end is soon.

© Emerald pen