Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Falling from the bridge.

Falling from the bridge.

controlled by such fear of,
not owning the spirit of
life, and losing someone of,
the will to be cared for.

Slipping off the edge, doubt
for what a life is all about.
Folly for the superficial dolly,
sends you falling off your trolley

who sold his voice to them,
demons wearing pinstriped suits,
some also wearing marching boots,
all fashioned by the lie,
wearing Eton Oxbridge tie.

Concerned to be too early,
finding the train was late,
missed out, even by this fate,
broken and mashed upon the

Fucking great,
he senses the over-planning,
signalled by the signal man in,
who closes the violet valves,
of what was his final hour.

So now, losing all his power
the tightening of supple muscle,
he falls away from metal shelf,
broken, bruised, smashed to hell,
bottom well!