The plan never changed
it was quietly revealed
suddenly, this cell was just mine
Can I still grow?
can I still change?
I don’t want to be my father
I don’t want to live alone
Another evening in
another night, pushing everyone away
All I need is a little space
room enough to think a while
write some lines
a drink or two
me; all too myself
But the more I take
the more I die
of this
this poisonous time
And even on the odd occasion
I go out and sit with other people
there is nothing I can say
to make them want me to stay
I’ve focused every sense within
this cell is me
There should be jokes, there should be smiles here!
I used to be so good at this
There should be humour, there should be such love!
I used to be so good at this
But the more I take
the more I die
of this
this poisonous time
Alone and wading through
such a poisonous time…
[2008]
Thanks for reading.
The Lighthouse 