Same old song

It’s all so
Cliched

I’m an age-old soul,
I’ve never been a
‘You wanna bang?’-single-note-sellout

And these pathetic
Attempts
Are being played out
On an ever
Shrinking stage;

I long for substance!
Not some quick
Shot in the dark;

Do we not all,
At least quietly,
Beat on the door to heaven,
Begging a kindred soul?

Or,
Like as not,
I’m fool enough
To think they all
Do as I do;

Still,
I’m a dreamer,
Treading blissfully in
The Elysian Fields of
Imagination,
Vainly thinking
Some poor souls
Devour the thoughts of grandeur
As I yet do,

With hope
Little less
Than the cold stone-cap
I’ll don
A few days after
My days are done