Holes

Creeping on a tree

A lonely vine

Holding on to something

For support

For their life

Something was amiss

Something was awry

Why does this become

Why must our minds lie

To know everything

And nothing

All you are is gone

It doesn't really matter

It doesn't really shine

Holes in the floor

Holes in the roof

Holes in the walls

Holes in the proof

they eroded

And decayed

Without a second glance

And now they are left

Forever sitting ducks

To the erosion

To the hurt

And now all that is left

Is to pick up the mess

And hope it goes quickly

And turns into dust