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Finders, Keepers

They told me to look deep and I will find it,
The very treasure of my being,
The proof I am no animal,
The proof that indeed I am human,
Living, breathing, and honorable,
Of worth and of value,
But I have searched and searched,
My mentality is worn,
Weakened by this constant struggle to be,
More than just flesh,
More than blood,
Than bones,
Than nothing.

I have not found it,
And I doubt I ever will,
I tell myself that it's just lost,
Time will bring it back to me.
But has time ever done me good? No!
I am a nothing,
Wishing to be a something,
Time has done me this wrong,
It has brought me to my knees,
Praying with my hands folded,
If I was time, I could pause myself,
And perhaps rewind,
To a certain place and time,
When I believed I was a something.

I end my search today,
My bruised memory begs me to stop the torture,
If I have not found it by now, can suicide really do me wrong?
Everyone has abused me for what I truly am,
A nothing lost in times grasp,
A pawn in the game of life,
Waiting for nothing than to die,
So why not gamble it?
I will never find it; it just doesn't exist!
If I don't have it, why am I even afraid of death?
It won't succeed me, so why worry?
I'm just another nothing.

I spy a polished ebony tool,
I make contact with it,
It mocks me,
Taunts me,
Hates me.
I look down its barrel,
It looks in my lifeless eyes,
It bids me good riddance as I pull the trigger,
And it relieves me of my pain,
My sorrow,
My worry.

I never found my soul.