It is not wrong to be white
and to have dreadlocks
Though,
you may look like a pleb
but you offend me not
Nor would it offend
a black rastafarian man
of a temperate manner

I don't know any women
with white skin and
straight hair that get offended
by afro-caribbean women
wearing a straight weave
You're all just too soft now,
you're all just pet peaves

Stop getting offended
on behalf of other people
that don't even take offence
Excuse me,
whilst I build a fence
around myself hombre
Not to keep me here
but to keep you at bay

Cultural appropriation
doesn't exist
Cultural misappropriation
doesn't exist
You're all just
champagne socialists
You should get over it

Yes, you mate
The one that thinks
he's above
everyone
and must decide what is
politically correct
and whose life matters

In the end all this is
is a series of cultural
exchanges and we're
all wading through ****

Face it.

Just one more amitriptyline
and then I'll be dead
at least from the neck up
a perfect slumber,
forever restful
a perfect slumber,
never stressful

See,
I know what it feels like
to be barely twenty-three
going on forty-six
walking over hot coals
sleeping on sticks

So I throw stones
to break bones
and creative havoc
to feel something else
something other than
this pain I've carried
for too, *******, long

With the weight of twelve bricks
on my head its
nigh on impossible
and it hurts my neck
to look to the future
in a positive light

Yeah,
we're all getting older
and yes, I know
that I'm still young
because I remind myself
of this all too often

See,
I'm surely too young to
feel this way and
I'm surely too numb to
see it another way

I don't see anything
I only feel everything
the good, the bad
and all the tragedy in-between
I never dreamed I'd know
what it feels like to be born
a bird with clipped wings

There's nothing like running
your fingers through wheat
as you take a footpath
through the farmer's field
especially in the dead of night
when the silence speaks volumes

Though I wouldn't know
'*** I'm a city boy
I always say
a life better lived on
the road less travelled
clearly wasn't for me

Cloudy days and
cloudy apple cider
go hand in hand
with hand rolled cigarettes
and unread messages
and a qwerty keyboard

Things are gon' get better
things better get gone
have I neglected my writing
or has my writing neglected me

Thoughts are just electricity
surging through your brain
tiny little electrical impulses
molecules and whooshy stuff
I could do with some of that

Fifty-nine unread messages;
my heart, stuck in my throat
as I search for ways to live

I breathe no longer,
this heart beats faint

Thoughts are scattered to the wind
my voice is only ash now
falling gently on to deaf ears

I put myself out there till I tear
'*** I care and then I just recoil
enough time spent trying to make a dent
then you get sent, really makes your blood boil
words so potent, that your heart gets frozen
in the end it only makes your food spoil

If I move on fast
then I'm fast and I'm fast
'*** I never really loved you
If you move on fast
then you're fast and you're fast
'*** you never really loved me
put me on blast,
put me on blast, put me on blast
'*** I never really loved you

We'll call it room nine.
That's it, you'll find me.
I have faith even now.
If they don't understand
then just ask at the desk
for the guy with a fading
light in his eyes.
You can't miss me.