Micropoetry No.4
Perhaps I'll only be popular for my sayings Not inclined to trust my inner folds Saving stitches of thoughts resplendent? Drunk Another 'so-called' ex-footballer Drunk Shrunk to hair and clothes Without skill nor balls Oh, Beckham lay still Decline; chill. The day which never ends We shall never fight against, Being with forever, And seeing every chance As a real goal; treasured Enduring. Today? Desperate to get away The consequence of NHS border And the dull repetition of Every single news headline. Flawed socially. Loathing Attired in wild conflict Hoping Strung out: skin peeled Back bone reveals Rotten disposition. Some Truth pick-me-up. Short of motivation Breath is shorter Feeling confused Turning inside out Relentless It is not working It must be broken? Silence is God The gaps I desire Feed my love. My existence is meaning less Little matters anything here Walking away What would that solve? Masturbation is a temporary relie...