by Nick Gisburne
The count becomes conspicuous with age
The sum of all the sunshine I have known
A zero, on a perfect, pristine page
The tally of a lifetime lived alone
My story, stark, without the paint of pride
Reveals no list of sweet or special days
The moments, few and feeble, when I tried
Were strangled in a suffocating haze
The road is long, my future all too short
I wonder how I ever stepped so far
The darkness gives me nothing to report
No guiding light, no shining, silver star
But this is life, and this is where it led
Another cold day closer to the dead
