Nothing to do with shampoo bottles, empty or otherwise I'm afraid. Just some rambling nonsense from an over stressed imagination.


Sitting alone
listening to
tunes Lennon
never lived to write
I find the sight of
sunlight streaming
through the blinds
quite depressing

I'm guessing I should
say **** it and pull
the trigger but the
bigger picture looms
large before me

The contemporary
decay of society
more than I can
tackle at this crackling
moment of existence
but tomorrow after all,
is another day.

Look at that!
Three choppy
little verses all
much too sad to
ignore
(leading now
to number four)

Hey, how bout a joke?
An Irish bloke walks
past a pub...

What? It could happen

Blimey, me rhymes
a sodden mess.
I guess I'll hang it up
for the night and fight
the great fight in the
morning. If you've
read this far, you've
got my gratitude.

(And sympathy)