a grain of sand holds the water
and the wave nudges the sand
the birds pollinate the flowers
and the tree bears their tiny nests
the aphids feed the hungry ants
and the ants protect them in turn
i guess you can get from this
that everyone serves a purpose
the mutualism in nature
doesn’t stop there
somebody will need you
from your heart to your hair
just because you don’t see
the aphids or the trees
doesn’t mean they don’t exist
the creatures will still be
someone loves you and needs you
and sees you as their sea
family members or friends
or somebody like me 🩷

there was a tale
of an angel
with a wing so bright
you could see it at night
but he never had the other
to complete his pair
and in its place
was a wing filled with air
though his beauty was there
and his wing was glistening
he could never fly
because of his missing wing
so he was good
but never great
he was a mate
but never checkmate.
always an angel
never God
always second best
never firstly sought.
and out of this jealousy
a raging war
he stared at his creator
like a lion he roared
he took with him
a third of heaven's stars
and there on the battlefield
blood shed redder than mars
and the battle was won
not by the angel
but by Michael
the warrior more faithful
“Lucifer!” he cried
standing over the earth
“Away from me,” responded Lucifer,
cast down on the turf.
there he lay
with the rest of the ‘meteors’
once stars now never
now they meet the earth.
so he lives
not for long
with the humans
in their song
spreading pain
spreading terror
but this won’t last
forever.

these few days
sleep has been
something not so
easy to go in
i feel myself
drift off
for but a second
till a cough
or a sneeze
or an itch
wakes me up
from this ditch
and brings me back
into reality
sections at a time
then the sun shines at me
and really i go to sleep
for the serenity; the peace
but i find none
just black before my eyes
and a headache
i’m awake, just, in disguise
either that or
i’m awake somewhere else
in a dream or a nightmare
i’ve got to help myself
i never find myself
in that state of mind
being rested being well
i wish there to reside

Red, Orange, Yellow
These colours make me mellow
Green, Blue, Violet
One can say, the colours of silence
Indigo
This one cannot go
Though
I must admit
It is only fit
That in this metropolis
Of colours; not monotonous
They foster a sort of preponderance
Though when squished, form
A sort of colourful incontinence,
A bowel movement like this.
Because these colours, when mixed
Form a brown-ish bliss
A ***** abyss
Though ugly; something amiss
This uniqueness can’t be missed
I find myself lost in this
And I have no idea when to stop it
I’ll swallow my words down my oesophagus
To end this literary incompetence.

just as the wall wears away rubber
the wax burns from the flame
just as the black hole ***** out the light
a man withers from fame
the wall that you stick to
will never stick back
and the wax that you’ve lost
will never resurrect
so don’t spend your days
with one fish in the sea
wasting away
trying your best to see
whether your wall
or your fire
or your hole
will retire
from ******* the life
out of your poor poor soul
but i’m sure you and i know
this is an unreachable goal