The World Is Waiting For Me
The world is waiting for me
but I'm stuck here in my room
ceiling fan keeps spinning round
mind's become consumed
shadows and reflections
like a strobe in the corner of my eye
I'm looking at the tv
but I have no idea why
the grey smoke from my cigarette
dancing in the light
slowly swaying back and forth
such a sultry way to flight
returning into nothingness
clouds of dust and ash
dispersing in air's currents
under the window's sash
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