Dance 'till you can

Is it perfection you're looking for, huh ?

A big painful circle
Each point,
perfectly aligned from its centre.

Aren't you tired of,
practical people-saying dreams are foolish
and life is long

Don't smoke that cigarette no more...

...practical people, they settled down
gave up on art, on love and life
keeping it simple,
within circle's radius.

Hey, how are you ?
That's why they spell but,
what they mean is
my god this deepshit again ?!"

Why hide it,
what's your cut
what ya win in all these

Your filthy lungs, my broken heart
your filthy heart...

Same jokes,
same fake smiles
same fake worries,
same kisses
same fucks.
Fake friends,
waste of time.
Fake love,
waste of lies.

Yet not enough ?

What's your cut,
what ya win all these

Loose your chains
mold the circle into an almighty newly discovered form or shape,
life's short,
don't you just stand
and just take it in
soldier, take that sword and shield
soldier, do not murder
is your life you're fighting for.

Last blow of smoke, body turns to ashes
What we need, is
what we have

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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