The Dullard

He sat on a stone, beneath a winter bitten tree

His face calm, perched on his palm

Whilst his mind struggled in agitation

To runaway to a place, where it could be free.

A sad man he was, lost and left alone

With no one to listen or tell

Neglected by the world, unnamed and unclaimed

He had none, whom he could regard his own.

Tired of the idleness, and stagnation

Drained and exhausted of the nothingness

Shrinking into an empty and hollow self

He cursed the day of his creation.

Gathering all the strength he had left

He stoop up on the back of the heartless stone

Placed his neck adjusted into the noose

And bade farewell to world and the stone.

Though his mind was finally freed

His soul could not escape the winter bitten treeon the noose

And it remained, cursed to roam and wander

Once again alone, he realized his blunder.

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