Capitalism is spent


The poor’s prison
couldn’t hold us we have no value
binned in the sin bin
the void is massive and not narrow
unless you go to Eaton or Harrow
you will never get to be an MP
and make a change to the system or stats
Life was made for fat cats and bankers
don’t worry I can just about afford the bus you wankers
we live in a free country or are we free but dumb
Is there any real freedom?
in the rat race chase for digital money
if we make a loss, print some more or take out a loan
quantitative easing splurge your money on wanton distractions
Tv,computers, phones, the system works in subtraction
take away all your time so you cannot rebel
Welcome to hell and the shell of system
we are organised enough to make a change?
life is too hard to rearrange?
When we work in our family packs
like dogs or other animals
human beings working for own destruction
the planet is being destroyed by plastic and green house gases
while we too distracted by prosthetic tits and asses
getting them done or seeing them on show
sex opium it’s the new scent
no wonder capitalism is spent.

The Escapist

The Escapist

Sometimes my escaping
leads to me scrapping myself
off the floor.
Substance abuse
let loose
has become my demon
from which I have no freedom.
Lost in chaos
I use it change my emotion or keep it in stasis
what a waste this is
I have to face my demons
of psychological fear
work through the tears
become a form of me
that I can eventually be
proud of,
and escape like Phoenix free
when my sadness has left me
and never use the poisons again.

She’s trouble so they say

She’s trouble so they say
She’ll slay your heart
Tear it apart
Never mind her history
She’s a mystery
Neglected as a child
Emotional abuse
she hates men
Does she have a reason?

Behind her eyes lesions and cuts to her soul
Though they call her slut and say she’s out of control
She yearns and burns for a man who will calm her inner being
See the hurting girl inside who’s trapped in her own head
Instead of taking her to bed for a one night stand
A love that hold her through the lonely hours
A love that will never sour
Or grow cold
Or scold her for being her
A love that inspires fire
That comforts her
and talks her through agonising visions of the past
A love that lasts.