I’m so woefully scattered
pieces of me lie everywhere.
Scavengers prey and rejoice all day
but no one seems to care.

That small piece upon the hill
with a big dream, is dead.
I bury it under a lonely tree
and bravely move ahead.

Some of me I gave to you.
It was my very best.
I hoped that you would hold it
but even that you laid to rest.

A few that I could gather,
are bloodless bits of rotted flesh.
I feed them to the scavengers myself
for its all over now, the end.