I have been a slave to bad memories
guilt controlled the steering of my life
With pain and depression
sitted as passengers
Tossing my emotions
In diversed pages & fliers
Leading me astray to early grave

My twilight years are toast
Of shattered and tattered
Flings of hurtful pangs
That walks on water
With a paddle of bickers

In a lonely path across the street
I looked misfit in my ornament of pity
With birds at my dignity that deserted
Me long before those pages got burnt

My burning pages never turns to ashes
Twisted tongues and wailing dong
My chapters are in flames feet
I held their memorial in my armpits
And buried them in my testicles.