Half Made Man

He sits in his room
He makes his bouquet
Of memories wasted
In a different today

When sent to her room
His daughter would say
That time passes slowly
So far in the fray

So deep in the water
where everything's shared
It's so hard to see
The water is air

cold in the sun
And cool in the dark
We hug ourselves coldly
We can't leave a mark

Seeing no troubled times
As everything should
When he does no bad
He only does good

So he seeks out his path
And litters his throne
The hourglass empty
The memories gone

In a box full of dirt
With a bag full of shit
Teeth that don't eat
Only chomp at the bit

Each petal a sin
Each flower a curse
They make up a wreath
To adorn his hearse