Home grown,
Alone in a city; lightless
And lifeless
But my memories priceless

Homegrown,
Far from you and
Far from who i came to be

Put the Art in Artificial
And struck the initial
Blow at the old me,
Inadvertently

And as my past passes away
I regret my present self,
It ain't really a gift
The cards were poorly dealt

Appropriately, im the dealer
The irony makes it clearer
That the life i chose goes
No where, this cul de saq.

This total lack of whole
Mirrors my solemn soul
Heroes are painted gold
But im rusty, i should fold