i’ve wacked my tally
and dilled my dally
and all our storms are in a port
we only grill in the galley
i've collected my nonsense
in a brown paper jar
looks highly effective
it's chance of existence
or better yet
the span if it’s life
less than that of a butterfly
i hiked and i hitched
i moaned and i bitched
whenever i felt the need
to travel and complain
i made a whole navy
of paper boats one summer
and i floated that fine fleet in the rain
i would not be conquering
the world this day
my fleet and all my dreams
were either sodden and sunk
or swept down the nearest drain
i'd stand there bewildered
unable to curse
my gutter once a majestic port
now just littered
with the remnants
of another little boys imagination
thinking back
the butterfly has long been gone
i'm tired as i groan
the world has grown long indeed
we are supposed to be thankful
but somedays
it just gets old
...
..
.
About the Creator
Brenton F
I've beared no sick words
Junk words, love words
Fuck you words from Jesus
Lowlife: Jesus and Mary Chain
- - -
I have an eBook, a collection of my favourite pieces
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