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One Day More, To Go On?

Poetry By: Elodie
Poetry



Life is a funny thing.


Submitted:Feb 29, 2012    Reads: 21    Comments: 1    Likes: 1   


Life is a funny thing

She stubbed out her cigarette

It's most definitely not what you get

Who you meet

Who you screw

What you see

What you do

What matters

Is it all random?

A cacophony of noise

A plethora of things

Onto the next

Which is sure not to vex

To complete you

To beseech you

We cry

We cheat

We scream

With a shining painful sheen

It's all the same

Silence, noise

Giving up, holding back

Biting your tongue

Seeing what's wrong

This time it's different

Always different

Yet completely the same

It's not the pain

It's what comes after

The bitter cynicism

You are jaded now

You've seen it all

You can make that call

No matter

Really! It doesn't!

Land Ho!

You've made it back home

Back to that safe and gentle place

The smile on their face

It's going to be all right

Even though you cry yourself to sleep at night

One day more

One more day

To fulfil that promise

To pay that debt

And yet your tears are wet

Forget now

Go on

It's human nature

To move on

Move out

Move around

Move through

Move forward

You can do it

You tell yourself

One day more

Before you hit that cold dirty floor

Grin and bear it

No grimace

No tears

Despite all these painful years

Who can say

That you'll be willing to pay

Sane, sane, piece of mind

The clock ticks

Bam

You're gone

Dust to dust

What's left?

Nothing to collect

Just a cigarette butt and a lipstick-stained coffee cup

One day too soon

One day to glimpse the moon

The stars come out

And you cry and shout

Hello world it's me

Why oh why did it not work out supreme

It's cold

Harsh

Unforgiving

Real

You've heard every single spiel

It is too late

You've taken the bait

One day more

Forever and ever

And to think you once thought yourself clever

It's over now

It's all wrapped up

No one to talk to

It's a bit rough

One day to see

To be awed

To perceive

The so-called wonders of a stolen life

In which all dreams were absolutely rife

It's all done with

You've packed up the books

Cleaned out the cupboards

And climbed on the roof

In a drunken stupor

You bid your goodbye

To this cruel cruel life

And you wonder

Why?





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