'Men of Dartmoor E-Wing, Christmas 2019' by Sean Bw Parker
I’m Getting Angry Now
Blindsided by the punch of a hundred fond memories
Transformed by toxicity to torture and terrorise
Tears cascading down my red raw cheeks
Showing me exactly how I’ve become weak
The conversations I’m having belong in a faraway place
The thoughts in my mind put me in a very dark state
My enemy I cannot hold, I cannot see it though I’m trying
I wish it could be easier to see, the frustrations would be dying
Nothing makes sense yet at the same time it’s simple
It’s as old as time itself – motivations evil
Yet there is a resolute refusal to realise the reality
of the situation I’m in. Do people lack the ability?
What’s so hard to accept? What can they not compute?
Do they bury their heads because it doesn’t their narrative suit?
Yes, I know the poison – it’s me that has to live it
I’m getting angry now. The whole thing’s fucking shit.
It’s time to stop writing because I’m falling down a hole
I need to find the strength to help myself as I’m alone
I don’t want to push you away if you’re not my ally
But I must protect myself. So to all of you, bye bye.
Not A Number (April 2024)
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