Some drunken ramblings from one Saturday night to depress you on a Monday afternoon!

A rammed car,

Vomiting with a migraine,

Past lovers hit the screen

like rain

I struggle but

can’t get off this plane

to nowhere,

destination zero.

Looking for an escape,

Craving for a hero.

But a wall of rejection leaps in my face,

I’ve a  heart composed of lace.


And easily torn.

I deserted patience on the windy road to peace,

‘Pleased to meet you – I’m frustration’s long lost niece’

I try to gather scattered pain

Longing  do 30 in the fast lane.

My wisdom flies out the window and

Lies on the M5

The traffic radio said it caused problems

but noone harmed

Yet again a failed attempt to alarm


A wrist slitting tempts her but it’s too clichéd 

A prostitute – badly treated and poorly paid

There’s nothing inside her, but her career

and as she leans to greet you, you see her fear

Her vagina awaits daily persecution

while she listens to Whitney Huston

on her lunch break

Cheryl drinks Lucozade and eats cake

But pain’s not real when it comes in a Rubicon can,

And reason is not an ability of the man,

Who lies in bed awaiting her

Body bruised

Two disturbed souls are fused.

In the morning she makes pancakes and says ‘I’m fine’

‘It was the chardonnay, I really mustn’t drink wine.’

Because what is real is only what you choose,

And in this game of life you are bound to loose.

But sit there and take it with pride,

Make failure your lawful bride

And maybe, just maybe you will live.

But you will still die.