Pining

When you see me, I’m always pissed up
I think of all the times that I messed up,
And never asked you how you really feel
But it’s too late, you’re sat behind the wheel.
Waiting to leave your home, it’s repossessed,
You the madam over which I have obssessed.
Gone is the day that we could be as one,
You left and now you’re running from the gun,
This fantasy is gone, and so are you.

Get Well Card

I loved the way
You made me
A card of glitter
When I was ill.
Although
You look back
And think how
Childish it came out
I cherish it.

Mick

Poor Mick,
Fired for ‘performance issues’
At the end of his extended
probationary period.

Like the dog given,
Another chance before
Farmer sells him.

His Irish accent
A lazy concentrating eye
Eternally deep in thought,
thinking for his other eye
Which was always kind.
I never worked with him
Which is why I like him.

Lost

I’ve lost my keys, I’ve lost my phone
I’m not very organised, that’s true.
I put them in the safest place
And now I’ve lost that too.

I’ve lost this side of Exeter
I’ve lost my poetry class
I do hope Cathy doesn’t notice
Or she’ll rightfully kick my a**.