I'm sorry to keep posting here bu this is all I can do to vent a lot of the crappy stuff I'm feeling right now. . so uh, I don't suppose any of the crap I'm writing now will have any relevance next week. So this poem is for right now.
day after day
Day after day
At half past seven
The orange hum of a sun bleached hillside
Glows and beams like an angels wing
The cold side of the pillow
Provides little comfort
For the thoughts of another day,
Another body-wrecking, soul-corroding day,
Well, they creep and seep into every crevace of your mind
The moans and groans of Mondays past
Darken the lines of my face
And so with an aching back
And a throbbing heart
I clamber out of bed
And I dress myself
And I cleanse myself
And I don't bother,
With such vulgar things
As breakfast
Or the coming of ones hair
But I slap on my cap
And I get out of the house
And I walk
And I walk
And I sing to myself
These things are dull
(I know)
Same as it ever was
Same as it ever was
The day makes dull(er)
What could have possibly been
Possibility. . .
And I walk home
With the sun on my neck
And the wind picks up so much
But it passes me by
Unfortunately. . .
So I walk and I walk and I talk and I talk
Oh do shut up please. . .
Same as it ever was
Same as it ever was
The west stabs the sun
It bleeds over the hillsides
Staining them deeply crimson
And the sun dies slowly
nobly
slowly
Same as it ever was
The Gods light stars to warm their hands
And blankets of blackness cover the land
The sounds of life and the sights of the city
Draw me from my bed to the window
I long to be with them
(With you)
Who laughs and cries and jeers and lies
And lives a life that I'd love to call my own
(But I won't go out tonight
I'll stay in and get things done. . .)
The enveloping warmth of a broken bed
Seems to heal my broken spine
Seems to hold back the tears for one more hour. . .
The drink is poured
The glasses smashed
And from the depths of the house
The yells of very ugly people can be heard
A left and a right and the land is ours
And the broken glasses mirrors the evening sky
And I lie in bed and cry
I lie in bed and cry
No one tells me what to do
No one tells me who to love
No one tells me where to go
"Oh leave him be,
He'll find his way,
someday"
So as I climb back
Into the uncomfortable
Aching bed
I'm feeling so desperately lonely tonight
And there's no one to be seen
There's no one I can dream of
(Not even you)
Who can tell me 'It's ok'
In that condecending way. . .
And make me feel happy for a while. . .
So I'll fall out of bed
Maybe once, maybe twice
And I'll lie on the bedroom floor and stare
I'll simply stare
And
no
one
really
cares
. . .
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