Inside I am this shell,
When others live behind one.
Inside there's nothing left,
Just some fragments of thought
Memories of comfort and
The happiness of purest ignorance.
When all is said and done I wonder
What will be left of me,
What will be left for others to take,
What will be left to give
When already it is just
A shell
Broken into pieces
The shine is gone, all that remains
Is the dull exterior of material
Broken.