"What Does The Future Hold?"

Another Sunday morning
The same thing in my head
Can't really enjoy my day off
Cos my Football Club could be dead.
People think I'm fairly normal
But I'm scared of how I will cope
If I'm unable to do that
I'll make my own hangman's rope.
Emotionally this is hurting me more
Than when my mum was about to die
At random moments in the day
I want to curl up and cry.
If The Hamlet pull through
I can say I'm proud to have served my Club
But can I forgive those who haven't
Therein lies the rub.
Genuinely believe there's some out there
Who want us re-formed in a Kent County League field
Revenge is not so much a dish served cold
As served up with whatever I choose to wield.
No idea if I'd cope
With the rest of my life in a cell
Very much doubt I'll survive
A banged up life of hell.
The problem is I'm not crazy
I don't hear voices in my head
But surely it's not normal
To want to butcher enemies dead?
The problem is my glass is half empty
Even if I still liked a drink
I can't imagine my Club surviving
And I'm teetering on the brink.
If the worst comes to the worst
I have to do what's right
Not something that will happen immediately
It won't be overnight.
A phoenix club might happen
But it will never be the same
In matters like this I won't be wrong
I'll know where to apportion blame.
Perhaps first I'll write my 'mythical memoirs'
Unburden those thoughts in my head
Maybe that will cleanse me
My memorial for when I'm dead.
I know what I'd have to do
My way out's under a train
My writing would be my legacy
Even if you think I'm insane.

Dulwich Poet 28th January 2018

(A poem about me thinking about the future, or not having a future, without Dulwich Hamlet Football Club)