Like a dying starfish
Whose tentacles slowly
Lose their grip and slip
And slip off the surface
I was holding onto for dear life.
My hold on my old life slips
While I rest behind these prison walls.
Contacts diminish, trickling away
With every passing day.
Slowly forgetting faces, phone numbers,
Streets and names
Of all I once knew
All slipping through my fingers
As I hold on for dear life
To my old life and memories
But I keep losing my grip
Like a dying starfish.
I´m slipping and slowly falling
Away from my old lifeInto the abyss.