Washed Up

 

Is it me, or is it not?
Because I don't know,
How your love flows.
Like a meandering river,
It twists and turns.
Your destination is unsure,
Only you know, why or where.
And like a twig,
I'm carried away in the current.
Strong enough to resist,
The buffeting and heartbreak.
Weak willed enough to be carried away.
Caught up in an emotional whirlpool,
Being sucked under can't break away.
Going down with leaden heart.
No hope, no fear. Who cares?
Not I, for I've had my time.
Like the twig, that's been carried away;
Gone into oblivion.
Until eventually washing up on the bank.
Lifeless, useless. Just a dead twig.
Nothing left to give, broken, unimportant.
But you keep travelling on,
To your ultimate destination.
Casting twigs on your banks,
As you flow down your course in life.
Never knowing, maybe not caring.
Just passing on by, for somebody else.
They too, like me are undeserving of you.
Only you really know, who or what?
Will be the object of your desires.
In life I couldn't give much,
But in my death you'll find peace.
No more hassles, giving you freedom.
The dam is open, no more barriers.
I'm the last, perhaps without me;
You may have some stability.

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