Last Legs

A poem about defeat or feeling defeated

Last Legs
By GL Morris

I’m out of money
I’m out of breath
I’m out of my element
Out of my depth

I’m way too tired
Much too curt
Light’s expired
Like Johnny I’m hurt

I’m feeling so lonely
Barren and cold
While coveting vigour
I’ve grown quickly old

I’m really on my last legs
Really on my last legs
Really on my last legs
Leg

I have no conception
Of worthwhile a goal
What never was empty
Can ever be whole

My totem is wounded
It’s crippled, can’t fly
I fall on the sword of life
Wither and sigh

I’m really on my last legs
Really on my last legs
Really on my last legs
Leg