August 11, 2007

A Simple Cliché

The dull grey smoke of a cigarette
Fills my lungs with ashes
The slow death of a coward
Suicidal yet afraid to die

The dream is now over
Brutal reality has taken its place
I know all too well what I am
No more than a simple cliché

Nothing more than a tortured soul
Lost in a sea of tortured souls
Each of us hoping to be more
Than what we really are

Bags of flesh and bone
Clinging to empty lives
Dreaming of something special
To take away the pain

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