All I Have

You thought I’d forgotten you?

How could I,

You are all I have.

Writer's Block

The well is dry

My brain still click clacks away

Echoes in the void

Apologies

I apologise to my poetry blog

Nothing good is coming from this poor sod

Everything I write is crap, I don’t know why

My lack of brilliance makes me want to cry.

And then I apologise to everyone I have ever known

Hoping that might make a difference to what I’ve done

To all the people I have upset, ignored, or made to feel bad

Maybe that might make the world better and my writing grand

You know, in case karma is an actual thing,

And being kind makes a difference to everyone

As though my dark sense of humour and wherewithal

Doesn’t make my creativity and writing stall.

Too Much Of A Coward

I’m too much of a coward to suicide, 

Sore neck, sore gut, sore wrist, choking, suffocating, no thanks.

It is probably good, because if I was brave

I could be dead.

I have to think about that,

yes, I do, cause that could be,

a thing, yes it could, there

but for the grace of the universe, I go.

And how would that be?

Would anyone be talking about me cowardly?

No, it would be, why did he do it?

Why did we not see it, they’d say.

But what does cowardly look like,

did they ever think it looked like me?

Hiding in plain sight, as they say,

before I went mysteriously away.