I stand there in a cloud of smoke,
Dropping from amnesia, Sunday afternoon,
Looking for a way out or I am already at the exit?
Is it a fucking lie or reality beating me hard?
Talking crazy, to find a symphonic voice…

Distress is the name of the game,
Sunny day, popping sweets,
Craving sugar, craving poison,
I forgot my name and number,
Help me out to know, who I am?

If only “I was”, come to my mind,
Take years away, to be back on the same dirty bed,
Where sheets are made of dollars!
Young flesh, a £ for a little piece of me,
I can make it hot…

Performer or ghost of the past,
Bloated, sucking on pills,
So I can be again the cracker,
The one who used to make the show,
The one, who felt on the stage dead cold!

Amnesia, don’t know my name,
Forgot time or food/ drink,
Everybody’s can do it,
So I take one more to help,
Peace at last, oblivion is close…


Author's Notes/Comments: 

lost today

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sanctus's picture

 Compelling and thoughtful

 Compelling and thoughtful piece, very well done