the man is stuck in the middle of everything
while everyone has their lives going
his hopes dangle loosely on a string
and all the misfortunes keep growing
his only love has left for a better life
everyday cuts at him like a clean knife
the man smokes his days and nights away
and his clouds possess a shade of grey
a kind of grey we all love to hate
while he sits alone to curse his fate
he walks the same old trails for years
but it is now overflowing with his tears
through all this he is still alive and well
as he lies on a field with a flower in hand
the man wonders how his life is so swell
we live in blindness but never understand
the true essence of life.
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