I gave my heart away when I was fourteen

And I’ve missed it every day since,

But he always gave it back to me in dreams

Until it blew away four years later,

Forever in the river’s sultry scents.

I guess that makes me empty now,

With a hollow-sounding chest.

So why do I feel I’m suffocating?

Like a heavy weight’s just sitting,

Slowly crushing out my breath.

I gave my mind away once

And still can’t find it to this day.

I haven’t really looked for it;

I don’t care much, either way.

That’s not to say my head is empty,

Just full of broken things,

Wandering thoughts and ends of …

I gave my soul to Coca-Cola and music,

The only comforts left to me,

The only good investment I ever made,

Or addictions. They lied.

The best things aren’t free.

I sing to know that I’m still alive

I tell myself that I’ll live

As long as the static sound survives

I outgrew my footprints,

Left with the old moulds in the sand,

Far as the eye can see,

A broken pen in a broken hand,

While these footprints are left with me.

And the pen won’t write,

The ink well’s empty.

I gave my sight away, a long time ago;

I let the world look through my eyes -

Now a jumble of soft, toneless colors flow

And static is all I see,

But when I stop singing, you should know

This empty shell’s all the world’s left of me.

Author guidance for This poem

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updated Jul 23 '10 by Lyre