I am but a protruding thorn.
The only reason I was born
was to create pain and push life away.

I reach to touch a fading sun
and think of all the sins I’ve done.
I lie beneath the brambles as I pray.

The barren hand that I was dealt
was that I simply never felt
the feelings that complete a human heart.

That which would make others smile
just bored me after a short while.
Love never even had a chance to start.

I learned to make hearts flutter so
to satisfy my lust then go
my victim left with self-doubt and regret.

I thought of change in later years
but never could shed real tears.
My concrete essence was indeed quite set.

Now as my final gasp comes near
the price I pay is my deep fear
of what will happen after I do die.

They will find me on this grass
but none shall mourn after I pass.
No gentle touch or final kiss good-bye.

At last I feel my head fall back.
There is no way to change the track
my life has taken since my wretched birth.

With final breaths I try to cling
to thoughts of hearing angels sing
after I’m laid beneath some mound of earth.

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