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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 18:01:53 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 173972
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Wasted
[time] => 2012-10-07 10:12:45
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => I don't know I honestly do not know stationary in the flow children cry flowers wilt old women peep out from beneath their quilts Minds exhausted practically dormant activate mouths that ramble and splutter man theres, no soul on the street cats creep along the gutter a faded photograph of a child gathers dust in a room full of clutter Stifle a yawn consider a new approach get the kettle on go for a smoke She stirs a forgotten impulse it's awkward in her presence rejection delivered with a sneer the remainder of the journey tense The 6 o'clock no show at starley bridge oh well, plenty more fish in the sea and plenty more beers in the fridge 50, grey it aint too far away lines on the forehead plastic ducks in the bath a passion for horticulture? seriously, it hurts me to laugh Mourn not love lost but love never found low points on special brew days without sound Wet bench parkside swigging I can hear distant laughter swings creak and cans clatter tesco bags swirl with sweet wrappers I'm already bald and I'm getting fatter the lower end of the class scale doesn't matter mumble into the night because no-one listens In the moons silvery light the dewed grass glistens Shame I am alone Make your ma proud better to create rubbish than simply imitate genius just make your ma proud the views are vile atmospheres sterile buying the ref with middle class cunning a mid life crisis a new found passion for running cycling shorts urban sports how to begin? It's simple really very very simple observe my ambitions through shattered glass see? I'm not here for sympathy I just want it acknowledged that my future had shrivelled up and expired before I'd even gone to college Wiliam Hill, The Crown, Shipleys Amusements all please leave me alone a expensive distraction on my way home suck peanuts and sip mild with my dear fellow jobless my dear fellow hopeless my dear fellow luckless my dear fellow homeless So this England shout it out loud so this is England make us proud sweaty hand, clutching a creased daysaver faded leather jacket, stubborn lighter the evening is cold a limp wrist flicked for the time continuing to smoke below the golden line screeching cats wailing sirens city sounds rattle around hollow skulls a tramp on chips protects his loot from the gulls the dirty alleyways on this estate that I'm unable to avoid pegging the washing preparing for tomorrow Im going nowhere, love but I'd like you to follow [comments] => 3 [counter] => 235 [topic] => 20 [informant] => flavellm [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => InternetLove )
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