When I was thirteen
I had guilty secrets
Greasy hair and ***** mind
Pockets were always full
With pen-knives and matches
And pictures of **** women
And it was so good to be in long trousers!

Everything was halfway
Between the man and the boy
The devil and the angel
And I could not laugh at myself
For looks were so important
And the girls might see
They could make me blush
As I try to look so cool

My voice had broken
But my body was still growing
Nothing had been settled
And the things I took for granted
Were to change radically
But when I was thirteen
It was important to smoke
And not go out with my parents
Not to wear school uniform
And always have my jacket open
And never laugh too loud
In case I was the joke

                                    B y Phil Roberts

I could have been
a John Doe
but
you know
I survived,

I think I characterise
'true grit'
with a little bit
of fakery
only making me
human

and at blood pressure
I'm quite normal.

Our humanity has nothing
To do with your ego...*


@pax

There are rumours circulating,
About you and I,
I'm not sure what they are,
But then I'm not one to pry.

According to common gossip,
We've done so many things,
Like snuck out at midnight,
And bought each other diamond rings.

I only know those two,
From my friends big mouths,
Who exclaim these stories in detail,
Like they're something to be proud about.

But rumours are never good things,
They only cause pain,
Because people's sharp tongues sting,
As we drive each other insane.

I'd much rather die a poor man rich in wisdom
Than a rich man poor in wisdom