There was once a stuttering freak,
who floundered at every syllable he tried to speak -
many people called him queer
so he lived in fear;
fell down at life's knees, fragile and weak.

Every cold winter's night he'd kneel and pray, wishing
for the freedom to walk the streets without being called gay -
judged by his clothing, odd stride and hair
swallowed up in a world that's disgustingly prejudice and unfair

Oh, why live in a world writhing with sin?
To be ridiculed by merciless ******* that just want your dreams to collapse, cave in -

shot with ***** looks from blackened eyes,
living with luxuries that some despise -
alcohol, drugs, morals becoming less and less
the human race spiralling out of control as we indulge in ***,

and so our stuttering hero spat in the face of strife,
alas in a cruel twist of fate, that person carried a knife -

with a swift punch to his head,
he was knocked to the floor and hacked at until dead -

seems that in our shattered world, not even courage wins;

sprawled upon a paving slab in his own blood

floating away from our sins...

AJ

There is this wound it hurts so bad
it always appears when I am sad
No matter what I do it won't go away
its in my heart where it will always stay
It appeared the day you left this world
and I was no longer your little girl
forced to grow up with you not there
to make things easy that I couldn't bear
I search for you every day
if I'm sick, sad, or just have something to say.
I'm jealous of some girls,
girls who still have their mothers
I tell them to appreciate what they have,
because after they are gone,
there simply is no others.
I have this pain that won't go away,
it makes me mad that you couldn't stay
No matter many years go by
there's still one time of day that I do cry,
I miss you dearly and this is true,
my wound will not heal until I'm with you

The light glows off her sleek hair,
the tint of her skin,
divine and deliciously fair -

she's stood at the newsstand
paying by debit card,
her smart mini satchel clasped in her hand.

I watch cautiously from the nearest side-street,
through frosted up glass,
jumping now and then
at the occasional car that might pass.

She's beautiful - moving so effortlessly
and strangely angelic,
the chemical lag of this non-present world
makes it all seem so... psychedelic.

Oh, will she see me stood here
with those inquisitive blue eyes,
will she see through my insidious disguise?

'Cause I crave food on a daily basis,
many people stroll past me
sniggering and laughing with disgusted faces.

I lounge on the London streets,
my beds are the floors,
I curl up beside the twisted lepers
and next to the infected ******.

And so as the woman exits the shop
I feel my hand twitch, and drop
to the little surprise tucked in my belt -

after all these years
I never wanted to know how killing someone felt,

but

my stomach gripes in pain from starvation,
my bowels are always tight with constipation,

it seems everyone lives so grand
but not me, oh no -

I just want that bag clasped in her hand.

I'm a MAN.

A rugby-playing,
Football-loving,
Pie-eating
MAN.

A nerdy t-shirt wearing,
Glasses bearing,
Bad-teeth faring
MAN.

A sad,
Lonely,
Little
MAN.

A nice-dressing,
Debonair-looking,
Smooth-talking
MAN.

A rose-giving,
Hotel-whisking,
Loving and kissing
MAN.

A drunk,
A lush,
An alcy
MAN.

A person with
Thoughts
Feelings
Pain
Sentiment
I like stuff
I hide my feelings
I **** up

I cry.