Posted in sad, words

Empty shells

They were meant to defend,
Hardened overtime,
Pearly white surfaces that coloured
Thriving flesh basked within,
Now they lap at the shores.
Shells of present,
Void,
Hollow insides.
Not needed,
Their aces scrapped off,
Yanked from its umblical
Its what lifes makes of us.
Clean shells,
Ready for the picking,
Never to be filled,
Empty shells drifting.

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Author:

Everyone's life view prism is different.

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