It was too cold outside, but He still stood beside the window with a cigarette in his hand Expecting it to give the relief the people in his world never did.. The wind blew through his hair Giving him the sights of his bare past, or the shadows he left behind They still haunt him sometimes Leaving him with just the one Cigarette in his hand.. He has his aims and he has his wishes Like everyone else in the crowd But something stops him, or so he thinks, to achieve those dreams The ones he sees day and night.. With a passion for life and a philosophy to live by, He wishes to go so high But with the regrets he still has in his mind, He is just left with the one cigarette in his hand..
With a Sweet Punch..