Dead Heroes

All our heroes are dead

Drank themselves to the grave

Bukowski
Kerouac
Hemingway

They wrote their lives away

All our heroes are dead

Remembered only after the grave

All our heroes are dead

We dissect their brains

Kurt Cobain
Hunter S. Thompson
JFK

All our heroes are dead

From a toxic cocktail
a needle in the arm
drowning in their own
vomit & fame

We turn to their pages
their songs
their speeches
their words of wisdom

We try to create
but only recreate
mimicking a famous
sort of sadness

Our breaths won’t mean shit
until we are dead

We sell ourselves for free
& wonder why we come up short

We go to sleep on fire
& wonder why we wake up ashes

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