You Were Such a Humdrum Bum.

What size bucket should be used for the shattered and tattered, faithless body strewn across a stained pink rug. One does wonder what hopeful dream ran away
and left this dejected body in such a lifeless manner.
Without movement or sound, dreams burst from the shaken body. Stories lurch from inside it,spilling out like vomit. The questions that have gone unasked, unanswered, waver on the tip of the tounge and slide from sullen eyes, that at one time portrayed the sun itself.
The sidewalk never settles benieth your heels. Weed your overgrown garden of thorns. The ones that cradle your faith. How happiness excites you mind, envelopes you head completely. Your up to you waist in cement and stone. No amount of faithful shoulders will sooth your unrested head.
Pick up a shovel and unravel, unbury, ur past. The shattered and tattered, faithless body is your own. If you bury things when they're still breathing, they will knaw their way out, till their spilling from your mouth. The only question heard now is shreaking up from the stained and faded carpet...Are we born with the creases on the joints of our fingers or is it some trait we aquire?