A simple life chosen to live, perhaps?
Could no bed be offered though?
Not even a chair?
In that desolate, gray street of the city
frozen like ice, but still calmly sitting
a cigarette is lit
and- smoking, fretting, spitting

And so, another lonely story
without any care
shoots a puffy white cloud
of smoke in the air
and I can't help but stare...
at all of his dreams
briefly lingering there
as he disappears
leaving the cold, winter road seems
so quiet

And bear

Often we only focus on climbing the latter

Not bothering to look beside us

Sometimes we just want money

And that shiny Lamborghini

Diamonds and gold

All the material things

I myself is guilty of that act

Wanting the best of things

But not truly needing it

So, which will you choose?

The gold and diamonds

that you do not wear

or to save a life and help repair.