the tattered and the broken

when all else fails, no air for your sails,
you stop moving... stop breathing... thinking...

its a path that repeats, like a broken record,
not moving, traveling, like a rusted ford

its a burned out match, a broken latch,
a dead fish, the worthless catch

like fools gold, or so im told,
valued as a paper weight, but if you set it straight

its a broken line called life