Therapy?

No
matter
what
the
guidelines
say

Or
how
many
braincells
may be
lost

I’ll
slay
my
dragons
my way
thanks

And
live
with
whatever
the
cost

Quieten Down(er)

I’ll
take
anything
you’ve
got to
give

A drink;
a smoke,
a sedative

As the
voices
in my
head
these
days

Are
proving
far too
competitive

Exasperation

If life’s
a bitch

And then
you die

Then what’s
the fucking
point

Just flip
the switch

Let out
a sigh

And roll
another
joint

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