I'm tired now; but I cannot sleep
with this dream stuck in my head.
Or maybe it's this uncomfortable bed,
either way I can't find rest worth a peep.
No rest for me, in this life of deceit;
although I have drugs & Gods' beckoning at
my door step, it's become a trick
each morning to make the right pick.
Like maybe some cocaine, coffee or psalms?
Everything is new to me, my memory's absent.
Pretty sure I seen death last night
but that could have been a redundant dream
of mine; because I tend to unknowingly repeat
myself in speech, song, speech or song.
If I was famous, I bet they'd find
away to bring my 15 minutes to a hault,
destroy my shine before I ever got
going; however it would be done,
I bet they'd play me on the radio daily
and I'd be such a burnt out fool,
already stoned before noon, I'd have no clue
the plan they have to make me a bore.
All I know is when I hear her name
mentioned I think of nothing but try
hard as I may to remember how to breathe.
Her voice is mesmerizing, stops me in step
to the corner store or even to the shower.
Her love is like a fantasy game I can't beat
without using a barrage of cheats.
It's so early in the day and I'm already defeated,
deflated to the point of wanting to telephone
my pseudo friends and get a fake party started-
filled with cheap champagne, party favours
and conversations with no real direction.
Any of this is better than seeing me
for the me I've become, a man who barely
can stand on my own two feet without somehow
finding a way to make this blue day gray.
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