Sitting in an uncomfortable chair,
Knowing that no body cares.
All alone in a cold dark abyss,
Only yearning for one last kiss.
With only an old photograph to look at,
Everyone left him, even his long dead cat.
How long can he make this last?
He hopes his long-awaited death comes fast.
Looking at the photograph keeps him alive,
It gives him life and a loving vibe.
He had a family once; he had a life,
But everyone left him at the edge of a knife.
Decaying in his painful sleep,
All he has left in him is to weep.
A life so unimaginably dull,
Distant memories are now embedded in his skull.
His heart and soul have been forsaken,
But it does not make up for the life he has taken.
So brittle and old he awaits his death,
In his cell, by shielding bars, he takes his last breath.
