A FAR CRY.

The little man sits and drinks his drink

The alcohol helps him to think

He knows his dreams all had to die

He asks why with another drink.

It’s a far cry

From how he thought it all would be

A far cry

He drinks to kill reality.

The little man feels the drinks kick in

He’s at a place he knows so well

The blurred reflection of what could’ve been

Takes him one step nearer to hell.

The little man grows as drinks go down

He doesn’t feel as much the clown

He has to keep on asking why

He is screaming without a sound.