Hurt.

An empty soul.
With no future.
With no goal.
A heart that’s cold.
Now bronze no longer gold.
Eyes so empty.
In them nothingness is a plenty.
A desolate entity.
Without warm loving human identity.
Left all alone and hurt.
Looked upon as unwanted dirt.
Life has been a torturous time.
What it’s done is a first degree crime.
An empty soul.
Residing in a deep black cold hellish hole.