A rammed car,
Vomiting with a migraine,
Past lovers hit the screen
I struggle but
can’t get off this plane
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
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.