An Archeological Failure Poem by marian johnson

I sit and think,
I wish I'd had a shrink.
As I watch myself start to decay,
I'm just not feeling it today.
Sifting through the ruins of my life
Like an archeologist looking for a knife.
In the process to cut out the bad, like a bruised apple.
So focused, I overlooked most of the shrapnel.
The pangs from the shrapnel that run through my body hurts.
They come and go in little spurts.
Each one is a memory of a different event.
Each one, a bad decision, for people in my life to resent.
I deserve to look this way.
The scars are a dead give away.
I'm a disappointment to everyone i know,
I'm a disappointment everywhere i go.