Sunday, 3 June 2012


More alone now than ever
I watch light fade from the world,
like the soul from dying a man's eyes
or the image from an old tv screen.

What could I have done to prove
my point save making the most
pointless gesture of all, that I am
not to blame but you are the fools?

Twelve years spent looking for
just one answer as to why,
some of you can live the dream
but I live in a waking nightmare.

The Walker

Branches creak like old bones,
starlight turns the seas to dust
and mountains ooze lumps of phlegm
whilst rivers run like puss.

Not flakes of snow but scabs
that fall from a sky of putrid skin
stretched thin as the lies you used
to pretend I didn't exist.

Without you I am not alive,
I am simply the living dead
gnawing at my own flesh, tormented
by not being good enough for you
although everyone else was.