Copy of a copy (of a,)

Bottle after bottle.

Can after can.

Bowl after bowl.

Person after person.

Conversation after conversation.

Cigarette after cigarette.

Day after day.

Night after night.

It all stays the same.

Nothing seems to change.

I keep on pushing through.

Sunshine is promised at the end.

It's always fleeting. Always scarce. Feels good for a minute.

Then it's cigarette after cigarette, person after person.

It's the same, each time. Nothing fabulous. Never better than the last.

Or is it? It's supposed to be, it's advertised to be. But is it?

Thought after thought.