Blurry red eyes
weep for sunlight and
warmth and this sickness
burns brightest in
the dark.
This is a what
surrounds us,
simply and
tragically.
And it kills
me to think
I am a part of it.
I have no choice in the
matter
and neither do they,
nor you.
Unless becoming
a street sleeping
booze machine
counts.
Grim, early darkness
tight trousers
pressed shirts
and misery,
or become scum.
Those are the choices we face.
Dive my friends
Dive and fucking
soar.
Search for it
in between the
lines.
It must exist
that elusive thing
known
as escape.
I’ll search till I die
and if I find it,
I may decide to share it
with
you.
