[King of Crows]

These Old Bones

My days of youth have
since long past,
for every breath
I struggle and gasp.

There is no more
meeting half way
there,
instead I say;
"I'll just stay here."

These old bones are
cracked and brittle,
weary and worn,
my spirits torn.

I cough, I weeze,
I have sore knees.
My back is pained,
no joy I've gained,
watching the years
leap out me,
5 at a time.

I don't blow out candles,
anymore,
I am dying,
I am worn.
My teeth are chipped,
my nails too long,
when theres a camp fire,
I can't sing along.

I've watched my family grow up fast,
never knowing
I wouldn't last.

These old bones are
yellowed and worn,
my hope well's dry,
and my spirits are torn.

-Perocore

My hand. It hurts.