I like this pub.
Not too loud so you can't think.
Not too quiet so that you can't
help but think.

An old Cambridge pub called
the Portland Arms.
I've recently taken to drinking
whiskey straight, enjoying the burn.

The music is mediocre but
the people seem genuine enough.
Not that that matters anyway
when you're drinking alone.

Line by line, recite my pain
Neither me, you or the world to blame
Remembering how weak I was
Forgetting how strong I am
Surrender, my talent
Giving up, never my plan

I don't want to be just another man
I want to be special and unique
Different yet the same and admirable
I want success, I want to be humble
The universe doesn't care
Nothing is planned
Since fate doesn't exist

Every day is different
Every day is the same
I make no difference to this world
I'll never make a change
If I'm honest
I myself never really liked change
Hell, I never really even liked myself

A jealous individual is me
A sad one too
"Woe is me" cliché yet true
I wake up every day and cry inside
"What am I going to do?"
Every poem I wrote sounds the same
"Oh sadness, Oh love, Oh money,
Oh baby, Oh please, Oh why"

I'm suffocated by anger
Egged on by pain
An old soul with a young face
A young man with no place
Very few friends since eighteen
All I am is a sob story
An easy to get on with drama queen

When I'm happy, I'm extremely so
I forget my pains and feel as though
The world is not the same
The clouds part and the sun shines
Forgetting my worries my life's good
I want to be this way all the time

When I'm sad, I'm abysmally so
My mind cracks with bright light
A pain so deep it takes my sight
The world darkens and reality loses
A battle of good and evil in my head
It's times like this I wish I was better

Happy or sad I'll own my thoughts
They are mine and life's too short
Happy or sad I'll pen my thoughts
They are mine and they are heavy
I hope to understand them someday
Perhaps someday when I am ready

On the ground of this
Forever changing world
I plant my feet firmly
Watching life pass me by
With a heart of bark and
Thick sap tears, I wither
This acid rain can't sustain me

I'd never do you wrong
But I can't do you right
I struggle to understand things
And I might, be better off alone
Who knows?
Perhaps we're great together

As if I'm the whiskey and
You're a fine cigar
Individually enjoyable
Together we're great
But we're both cancerous and
One of us ruins lives

Not even twenty-one yet crushed
by the weight of a thousand problems
Financially suffocated by a prolonged
suffering which was initially avoidable
and ultimately devastating

Since 'momma' kicked me out
I could feel the independence
Decision making and problem solving
was always something I excelled in
Though, it was always do as I say,
not as I do

"Yes mum I'm going to college, it's looking very promising yes, I love you too"

None of this will make sense to me
in five years time I'll be the same waste
of space I am today but I can't let
the people I love know I feel this way

Tormented and asphyxiated
The best of us suffer in silence
Drugs, *** and general self abuse
are the only things that alleviated
my sense of self worthlessness

The higher you are the further
you'll have to fall because right now
I am on another planet but my body
was never a temple and I can tell you
it's more like a post modern nightclub

Struggle
              Suffering
                     ­         Loneliness
                                             ­    Substance
                                   Betrayal
                           Help
          Recovery
Relapse
              Sleepless
         ­                    Hopeless
                                            Rejection
  ­                                                          Failure­
                                       Self-loathing
                  Rock-bottom

Forgetting how good I have it
Abusing my advantages, an insult
to those who believe in me
Perhaps I'm not meant to be
what I want to be...

I think I have a problem
Oh primeval instinct, take from me
what I've worked for
Take what I've dreamed to achieve

A beer for breakfast a bud for tea
Screaming in my head the hilarious
irony of; "why does it always rain on me?!"
Smiling forever because I'm a joke

I dream of writing a book about my life
Consistently fictional, to seem to the reader as though it is as dark as it feels
But I can't write as the curtain closes