A Little Poem

So here I am pouring out my heart, now you're reading where to start.

I know they all start like this,

But to me this ain't a piece of piss.

My heart and soul goes into every poem, but then again you didn't know him.

And no in not craving any attention, just writing and writing like an old school detention.

And though I cry every time I write, I read them back and I think they're shite.

They don't do him justice when he was alive,

And my heart is so vicious like a bee hive,

Pointless rhyming yes I know,

But that's the only way I know,

To write my feelings without getting hurt,

Well I'm already hurting but without getting worse.

I hate how I'm judged and how I handle, the dickheads in public that stray as they ramble,

No job no life so they hurt others, would they do that in front of their mother's,

The dirty rats and illiterate scum, I'm sorry but they're really dumb.

But how they speak and insult and fight, it's like a cave without a light.

Their heads I mean so empty inside, no creativity or words decide, how do they not feel so ashamed, I tell you why they're never blamed.

And though this is stereotypical yes, I've been there done that and changed my address,

I wouldn't go back to a stabbing a day, not me stabbing someone coz I am ok.

I am well behaved but how do I show it, everyone thinks that you're posh when a poet.

I don't think coz I've written a poem I'm good, but I'm not a gangster and not from the hood.

But back to him and his powerful demeanor, oh no that makes him sound awful and meaner,

He wasn't mean he just helped me a lot, while my dad on the other hand he'd lost the plot.

And now I'm alone facing the world, but I will survive I'm brainy and bold.

And I see him still when I'm at my grandma's house, almost disguised like a little mouse,

Sat in the bath where he breathed his last air, but still a brunet with zero grey hair.

The iambic rhythm is coming on strong, and now this all sounds like I'm singing a song.

Ok well I'll leave you with one topic of thought, who were you with when you last had fought?