Daughter

In the trash heap at the shoreline, I am able
 To be honest; not with you, but with myself
 I am wreckage on display upon a shelf
 I'm someone else
 Trapped inside a sad goodbye that never seems to end
 A hole that picket fences couldn't mend
 And tiny hands with
 No scheduled existence, reach for mine to cross the street
 A puzzle piece, embraced defection
 Estranged, unable to go back
 What was a thought is now infection
 Of my yearning coronary tract
 The simplest of questions may invite the harshest truths
 Information which I have no use
 But self-destruction
 Having faith is escalating with your shoes untied
 I might have died, but I'm already dead inside
 Trapped within the scaffolding of all I won't achieve
 My mind, a prison I will never leave
 I touch my failure
 Never have a daughter, and I'll never fall in love
 Never have a daughter, and I'll never fall in love