His self-esteem lies in a fetid puddle
Staring up at him in longing
Wishing to restore its place.
He tries to cup it within his palms,
To drink and in turn reinvigorate.
Alas, like all things in his life
He grimly watched his salvation
Trickle slowly through stiff fingers
As though his skin turned to stone
And soon, his heart followed.
For swiftly the tears of regret
Flow like Neptune’s sea
From burning eyes,
Eroding his grip and
Withering away his heart,
All hope is swept away
With the ebbing tide.