We pass around a soggy cigarette
And raise our glasses to apathy
A toast to all the things we dreamt of being
And all the places we wanted to see
Now exhaled with the smoke
I’m too young to be this complacent
A cynic at twenty-three
I flick the lighter until my thumb’s sore
Wishing it could somehow ignite
My extinguished heart
I wish I could say I was trying

10/27/2012

Posted on 10/28/2012
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