Black Smog

Remember me for all the good I’ve done.
Tough growing up back then.
Voices were speaking.
Ears had no inner volume.
Stares so distant.
Face looking down.
Rays of judgement burned a hole.
Over there stood company.
Still felt alone.
Seeing the end is wanting out.
Never has a face so curious turned away.
Coldness turns to stone.
The end is over there.