Gray Man

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Life isn't as colorful as it used to be as the
gray man travels down the gloomy city streets.
He goes to his 9 to 5 job, where his soul is drained
every single day, his ambitions slip away into the 
void along with the youthful exuberance he used to
have, the zest for life, the belief the world was his oyster.

As the naivete that filled him so decreases the more the 
harsh realities of life continue to fuck his brain to hell
and the closer he comes to death the more anger and 
regret begin to rule his existence. Why me, he thinks, why do
I have to go through this meaningless existence never accomplishing
anything of worth?!

The gray man whose face is silhouette is etched lightly
in the white void, the gray man whose life is meaningless
and has no ambition, the gray man who tries to make himself
real, who tries to reveal his individuality only to have it stomped
out by his 9 to 5 job, miserable marriage, and poor family, the gray
man whose city of residence remains forever gloomy, the gray man
that sees through you and through me. 

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