Handful of Dust

I reached into my pocket
Where all my life is kept,
The times I felt good
And laughed out loud,
The times I sat and wept.
I dumped all this out on the table
To reminisce a while,
I sorted and dug
Through all that dust
For something to make me smile.
And all that I came up with
Was a handful of broken dreams,
A ghost of what I once had been,
An empty shell it seems.
It didn't happen all at once,
Not in one place,
By one person,
At one time.
But over the years
Life wore me down,
Killed the spirit that once was mine.
Now I sit and stare in silence
At the dust in the palm of my hand.
And with a final tear of letting go,
It sifts through my fingers like sand.
And I might as well be soulless
For the emptiness I feel inside.
Though I still walk amongst the living,
Imprisoned and alone, I died.