Sticking To What I Know

Mostly I write poems

About depression, death and heartache

Yet sometimes I write poems, it seems,

Just for writing’s sake

This was one of those poems

Even now it doesn’t make much sense

Though I had just watched Braveheart (again)

If that’s any kind of defence


Masterplan

The
candle
grows
dimmer

As my
patience
wears
thinner

Whilst
I wait
for the
steel
to bolt

My
temper
a simmer

As
you
think
you’re
the
winner

Yet I
plan my
peasants’
revolt

(Originally Posted 25.08.2020)

Same Time Next Week

I’ve said this many times

Mainly to my psychiatrist

For it is he who,

In my opinion,

Sould remain the quietest


No Idea

Stop asking me questions

When you are in no way prepared for the answers

(Originally Posted 01.05.2019)

Don’t Ask Me

What would you do

If it was you

Would you risk it

Even though

You could lose

I have no idea

What I’d do here

So thank fuck

I don’t

Have to choose

Harbouring Secrets

You have no idea

As you sit here

With your good humour and wit.

Now let me be clear

Kindly fuck off my dear

‘Cause honestly, you don’t know shit.

(Originally Posted 18.06.2019)

Poles Apart

I still cry myself to sleep

Not that you’d know

You selfish creep

You think because

We all lost him

That we both feel the same

But you’ve really got

No fucking clue

How I live each day in pain

Ungrateful Bastards

You
have
no idea

How it
pisses
me off

To
hear you
bemoan

What
you’ve
got

When
there’s
some of us

With
no-one
to hold

With
nothing
to help

Keep
out the
cold

Ignorant Bitch

I’ll always
be better
than you

Of that
there can
be no doubt

For you
really don’t
have a clue

How much
bullshit
you spout

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