With tears streaming down my surprisingly gaunt cheeks,
I hide out in a public toilet like it is a cave in somewhere much more exotic than this,
I am not a ****** addict as per accusations but I don't feel so good,
Useless at collecting money for a charity
Just another thing to feel uneasy about,
My brain and happiness are a half-****** dial-up connection
I bawl my fists up like an infant testing out his hands.
I think about shadow boxing but feel too lethargic to do so.
If Floyd Mayweather is money than I am poverty
A woman who looks like a Beverley, asks me if I am OK.
I lie that I am and thank her.
Deception is a necessary weapon at times.
Perhaps I am too far from home.