Withered in dust and dirt,
Forgotten from everyone else that romes the earth.
-Only the bad guys are certain to be remembered,
The good,
sometimes people barely remember their names.
But never-the-less,
Welcome, to the six feet under club, freind.
No use for regret, sadness, nor revenge
None of that matters here
Nothing matters,
Ear etching echoes;
The woulda-coulda-shoulda moans of men
that have had to continuesly fold,
Being dealt the hand of life.
Life- Another metaphor, for the land mine
infested battlefield it really is.
Yet, we continue to shuffle
Because Texas Hold 'Em is the only thing,
That matters, here.
-In The Six Feet Under Club.
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