Wished*

May days are numbered.
the freedom of joy is coming to an end.
I am groomed and dressed,
Judges assumed of rural acceptance.

My green leaf eyes,
wanted by wasted pasts,
smiles burned in others' minds,
I have no excuses, no point to have

wasted breath I am,
A renal life I've become,
I am an empty moral stone,
So many wished they knew whom