Cliché Poetry She speaks with a tongue that gives hisses It was her birthday and she got lots of good wishes She was on cloud nine because she turned 21 A good odd number to drink to and then some But throughout all the fake smiles you knew she was full of it Full of bullshit and witchcraft and smelled like hard liquor So I leave a demon in disguise when she's pretending to be unaware that her actions were so Cliché. So weak and crushed You will take my love and hush While I gush out blood From my heart to the floor Plus, It's cliché this way anyways Alone and I'm beat Too much hate to take in everyday When styles collide then change Like bloodwork, with Jack and cigs Plus, It's cliché this way anyways Crickets and a ton shit It never makes sense when jaded And I'm faded from our last outing Yelling, screams and fighting Just to come back like bloodwork With jack and cigs Plus, It's cliché this way anyways