What keeps me ticking is what keeps me kicking,
sheer cussedness.

Awkward I might be,
but I've lasted and I
see the ones that did not.

my card has been marked and if not then I'm sure that it will be, punched by the men who break up the machinery,
all is set
nett equals zero.

Back to beginnings
where the end's not
so sure, coming back
to a cure,
that's inevitable.

On the flip side of a spiral
it looks just the same
rehearsing reversals
a player in the game.

"My name is Ozymandias"
he sings a dirge
I'm on the verge
of a mental prolapse.

'Is it safe', he asks
as he completes
the fourth of his
Herculean tasks
I reply
no
and it never will be
as long as insanity
runs parallel with
humanity,
he
ignores me
and carries on.