I Am a Cliche
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I am a cliché
A soul walked along the water
The winds yelling cliché cliché
A dark soul was on the other side waiting
The winds yelled again cliché cliché
The two souls met inside this cliché
Of dark poetic solitude
They ordered drinks and black roses
In the cafe of clichés
From the skies appeared an Angel
Looking down upon this earth
At the clichés of life
The angel too walked in the bar of dead souls
Immediately she realized
I have walked into a cliché of dreams
The most terrible of poem and verse
Attacks my very, my very, yes oh yes, my very soul
Then it dawned on this angel of the evening
That he too is a cliché and somewhat confused
The three of them in the darkness of life’s parodies
They downed some shots and spilled some blood
Slightly inebriated one looked at the other two?
He demanded what the hell is a cliché anyways?
The darkest of souls, replied, I think is Spanish for friends!
This narrative my friend is a poetic rendition of the three amigos
Touché
Ops
I mean cliché
My Lobster means it too
Copyright © Arthur Vaso | Year Posted 2015
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