This life is horrible.
Like walking through a rainstorm.
In soggy boots made out of cloth.
Tripping over shoe laces.
Smashing faces.
Gnarled twisted teeth.
Huge black eyes.
The blackbirds swoop like vultures.
They're ready to pick at old bones.
Have only a few pennies.
Nothing in the bank today.
Saving up for common sense.
Sorely missing.
Not working at the moment is like p'ing in the wind.
Nothing's going anywhere.
No body, it's consuming itself.
And no-one cares.
It's scary.
(C) LIVVI