The Real Me
Ever felt cold, in the warmest of weathers?
Ever felt dead, within a living soul?
I have, 'coz my life serves no purpose
For the real me has long since gone
Pieces of rust are smothering me into ashes
Devouring on my realization of what's left of me
Monotony has surrounded my wishful remains
Smoldering what's left to cleanse my existence
My past is all that I leave behind
As I disperse into particles of dust
Caricatures of what's gone surrounds the air
While sculptures engrave my unwritten script
Defiance is a feature I sorely miss
As I come to terms with the reality
Inscriptions of the world are all I can follow now
For the real me has long since gone
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