Left to Aught

Nothing so much.

Left to an Ought 

He was unattractive 
in a beautiful way,
that buries the night
and unearths the day.

His mind was as bright
as a fresh coat of paint. 
He’s made of nesting dolls.
the smallest may be a saint.

As with a message
in a telephone game,
he was what everyone heard
but never heard the same.

If history of the oceans
is one for wealth and sp…