Cliche
Played out
Spent, into debt
Almost on the verge
But, life itself is a cliché
Moon, sun stars glittery
Used abused by poets jittery
Extolled in paeans, words buttery
Relentlessly they still beat same beaten path
Out of box clever think
Some folks make me blink
What matters is the heart
If that be true, that’ll float, rest’ll sink
life itself is a cliche
with its revolving door
endlessly spewing sucking
in out expeditiously
Originally Published: July 29, 2010
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What are your thoughts on this poem?Filed Under: Collection of Poems, Contemplative, Emotions
