I see so much hate
I am always trying
To stop myself
From bursting out crying
Tag: poetry
Thirteen Miles An Hour – 27th December 1984
Wake up in the mornings
Feeling really slow
Open up my eyes
I don’t want to know
Wake up in the mornings
Feeling really sour
Every single move
Thirteen miles an hour
Deny Everything – 26th December 1984
Deny everything if you get caught
Don’t be fooled, don’t be bought
It wasn’t you, you weren’t there
They’ll give in, don’t despair
It wasn’t you, walk away tall
Deny everything, deny it all
24th August 2023 – Deny everything was Jez’s motto. I was too scared to lie about some things so tried to not get into a position of having to deny things, but you know what teenagers can be like. Trouble found us easily. I’m not sure how well it served Jez either. As he liked to point out when I last saw him a few years ago, ‘I’ve been to prison, me!’ Hmm – well done!
I’m On Top – 25th December 1984
Woke up this morning
With a little smile
I knew I was on top
If only for a while
I felt so good
I just couldn’t stop
I knew I was ok
I knew I was on top
Screaming Hate – 24th December 1984
Someone at my door
Knock knock knock
I opened up the door
And gave him a shock
The copper came too late
I was screaming hate
I hit him in the head
I said ‘Get lost mate’
He finally went away
We were both screaming hate
I went upstairs to bed
I was very tired
Where did the hate come from
Which I had acquired?
I couldn’t stop thinking
This secret I must keep
I was very confused
But I was soon asleep
Tired Moon – 23rd December 1984
Looking up into the sky
I often think and wonder why
The moon looks tired and old
It looks so white and cold
Tired moon
In the afternoon
Tired moon
Smiling soon
Creep And Twist – 22nd December 1984
Creep and twist
Through the night
Colours changing
Hold on tight
Coming for you
Creeping wreck
Twisting flesh
Breaking neck
Forest misting
Evil leaping
Neck is twisting
Flesh is creeping
Redecoration (Unfinished) – 21st December 1984
Paint, splash, paint, splash
O.D. Idea – 20th December 1984
Had a needle of an idea
And stuck to his tracks
Overdosed the fear
Never heard the cracks
Of body, of blood, of bones
O.D. idea he fucking groans
Shot a man and jumped off a cliff
O.D. idea was fucking stiff
The police caught him with the gun
O.D. idea no fucking fun
Withdrawal symptoms on the cards
O.D. idea behind fucking bars
My Waiting Death – 19th December 1984
Death is waiting for me
As far as I can see
Death is sure to come
But I’m not the only one
Death is waiting for you
It’s coming for us, two
Three, four
Third World War