Life Has Nothing to Sell

Life has nothing to sell

Only ugly messes left behind

Dreams that never took flight

with hands habitually in bind

And voices still repeating

the lies like a greeting.

Life has nothing to sell

I am the overflowing ashtray left in the corner,

The face crossed out in photo albums

An existence unconsciously avoided

like a white crayon

or unpleasant news.

Spend all you have for nothing

In this black and white reality

Where skin turns into permanent scars

And the heart is best kept in a jar

Out of reach from harm, suffering

while another smile is faked.