I miss my mother
I miss my dad
I miss the days
Good or bad
I miss my sisters
And my brother
I miss a cuddle
From my mother
I miss the sun
The pouring rain
I miss my childhood
And the runaway train
I miss my lovers
And all my friends
I will miss my helper
On whom I depend
I miss the days by the sea
I miss the rambling
Wandering so free.
You see I'm slowly expiring
I'm aged one hundred and three
Reflecting on my lifetime
It was good,don't you agree.

Bibliophiles have there libraries
***** feeders have there dens
Vincent had his paint brushes
while authors feed their pens
Churches have there story tellers
To them it's about good and bad
Asylums holding straight jackets
For people who are totally mad
The armies train people to ****
politicians yearn to become a Lord
Tower of London has it guards
My chess set has lost its board.
Doctor Jekyll  needed mr Hyde
While ice  bergs feel the cold
My poor old grandad needed a wig
Cause he was completly bald

Played by cheaters
Kicking a round ball
War of attrition
Divers open to fall.
Sportsmanship rarely
Revealing  its sporting head
It's tribalism in a skin you cannot shed
Field of dreams
Beautiful game
Why do the players put the game to shame
The game is the game, it is what it is
The games played by people taking the p-ss

Our names are on an mega asteroid
It's coming to at us with pace
Doing ten thousand mph
I'm going to get out of my face
Asteroid ,asteroid,slow down chill
Me and Seven billion people,
whom you could unknowingly ****
Hey mister big stone please turn around
We really do not wish to be pummelled
Into gods earthly ground,
Please reverse rocky and go deeper into space
So I can spend more time getting out of ones face,

Icicles forming
Inside a flame
Hotel cyanide is
Open for guests

Revolving doors
Blackened Windows
Wooden boxes
No tomorrow's paper

Enjoy your stay
Flame will burn
Icicles forming
No return

Hotel cyanide
Accomadating
Making demise
Capsulating fun

Mental health versus the suicide bomb
It's not one for the faint of heart
Come on all you fu-ked up morons
Let's get this game to the start
When you hear the refs whistle blow
Which showers us in harmonic sound
Then everything turns a shade of red
As atoms hit the ground
Mental healthers you must take life upon the chin
Because that little suicide bomb will always ****** win
There can never be a return match
There will be no glorious return
Just a Little sporting chant
Of burn you ******* burn
Most games played in life are supposed to be a bit of fun
But in this stupid game the score is always 0-1
Warring factions please leave them inside your ugly head
It's always your surroundings that end up turning red