Poem: Holes

The spades of the doubt
are digging it deeper

The shovels of fate
move the ground away

The bombs of despair
make more holes around it

Like anyone else
doesn’t care

I keep falling, stumbling

The people behind and in front
push me in

The rocks that I throw
in my path
are the ones that I took
long ago

I keep wondering
when the holes get so deep
that the end of the world
is in sight

And when I, once more, alone
and fall into the night