[Calann]: 135.Poetry.End note

Puzzle pieces scattered
every which way on the
dusty wooden floor
they glare up, fragments of
a cloudy evening sky
when you strut into the room
and everyone looks away
faces burning with shame
more than a little pity

Covered in rags but so proud
oh yeah, it's a bullet to
the heart for anyone with
eyes to see your wilting glory
its imminent decay
there is no more space for
fallen stars on the stage
and while you still smile and pose
the adoring audience
is already long gone.