Sits at home doing nothing, dreaming about the past
Walls covered with beautiful pictures, sees only the cracks
Tells himself life has been cruel, deserves to wallow in regret
Cannot grasp its too early for the eulogy, a world still awaits
Turned away from family and friends, can't understand why no-one calls
Doesn't believe he needs anyone, least not anyone he can recall
Content to curse the fates, damns existence as a callous joke
Televised propaganda feeds his apathy, every single day
Talking points as an appetizer, suspicion smothered in hate as the entrée
Eyes no longer see colors, paints the world in shades of gray
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