So much on my mind
For once I agree
With an old mate of mine
When she told me
The biggest problem I have
Is that I think too much.
This weekend
At least
I make her
One hundred per cent right.
My 'escape route'
Doesn't seem as simple
As I thought it was.
To live or to die?
Where I'm sat
It's a struggle
Not to cry
Downstairs
At the front
Of a number three bus
Up to the Parade
In the lonely desperation
Of a late night fumble.
How sad is that?
Mustn't grumble
For that's what
Part of me wants...
DEATH not the wank.
But I'm not Jesus Christ
And will have to settle
For one out of two
Which is rising up
And cumming again.
Dulwich Poet 11th May 2014
(I was not in the best frame of mind when I wrote this, having some serious suicidal thoughts. I wrote this on the bus on the way to a late night toilet...)
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