Anonymity

 Mid the night's fretful stillness,

My mind fathoms the darkness;

Pondering the senselessness,

Of a life in loneliness.

I am but a lowly weed,

Thriving by a rough wayside;

Passersby pluck every blade,

Of my bud and bare my seed.

I can't look back at my past,

With a smile that can last,

To hide the shadowy cast,

Of  life that is wrecked and crashed.

I have nothing to cherish,

There's nothing to hope or wish;

For dreams shatter and perish,

In the gloom of deep anguish.

All that I can claim for me,

Is a handful of today

Lived in anonymity,

By this weed, nude of identity.