Cheap shovel
Burning away, I stare
In grief, in silence
In contempt, in frustration
In a hole so hollow yet full
Stuck in an all too familiar frozen state
A cheap shovel now burned
A hole eaten away by constant use
Not for what it expected
But for what it was given
Now unable to shovel away
At the snow, dirt, and clay
Thrown to the side
By a god so hate driven