In the corner of a dark place

Hangs a head in dire shame,

Turning over a life’s worries;

Taking on all the mounting blame.


A cranial void of no solutions,

Black as tunnel light can be,

Wondering where the chances went;

Expected them to be for free.


Starting on hearing known voices,

Coming far from pointed light,

Shaking out from the deep despair;

Given hope of final respite.


Unhinged doors burst in on him,

A figure stands within the frame,

Smiles exchanged, bursting wildly;

A bullet lodges in his brain.



All about


He sits there listening on his own

All who see him think he’s alone

They don’t see their image too

Can’t assimilate it into the view

The all-round composition

Making a 360 exposition

Surrounding them inside and out

Ignoring completeness all about

Not taking in the trees of the square

Not smelling at the coffee in the air

Surprised when the tram comes past

White and maroon and not too fast

They just look about the assortment in front

A picture of peculiar taste that may affront

Random objects are deployed

By assistants there employed

To make and effect; generate interest

Shop just trying to be the best

However, they ignore the all-round vision

Like when looking into television

Not integrating with the zone

They are the ones that are on their own






Under books, work, the weight of the world,
Fierce shadows lurk, and sit beside me curled,
As though a cat, purring asleep,
But ready to pounce, leap
Upon my lap, claws ready, sharp,
A heartless stab, jab, scratch and tear,
If I should I dare
Pull myself up to breathe,
It would not sheathe
Those talons,
Instead all would fall
In gallons
Of books, work, the weight of the world,
In one swift flurry,
Completely bury.