WEATHERWORN HEADSTONE I am weatherworn A cold decayed headstone Whose words cannot be read Corroded far too soon To time I'm not immune I dread to look ahead I am watered down A ship that's run aground I tentatively tread Too much I neglect And I lost the respect Of those who from me fled I'm a weak compound A noise that's lost its sound Inept and powerless Faded to pale grey My pain I can't allay A constant dull distress I've become morose Conversely, less verbose Diminished by this stress I am weatherworn A cold decayed headstone Whose words cannot be read --July 2020, Ash Hall