The Still

Cracked up,

Cold,

Dusty and old.

At least that’s what he was told.

He danced for the word

But his mind was completely

Still.

Nothing but still.

So still; but he wanted something to go off in his mind,

But no matter how hard he tried

Still...

It was still.

Cracked up,

Cold,

Dusty and old.

That’s what he was told this lifestyle would become.

Instead, the numbness

The empty,

The still,

Drove him off the road

And straight to his grave.

Cracked up,

Cold,

Dusty and old.

That’s what we see them become if they survive that long.

What they don’t tell us—they probably won’t.