In a few more hours it'll be time,
until a far away December,
for the last festive clip
of Tim and Dawn,
and then pack away the tree,
but not forlorn;
Yuletide you were wonderful,
songs, laughs
and good tidings to all,
spinning times of splendid,
the comfort of having a ball.
So despite being over,
no hint of a feeling of blue,
because Christmas 2018
you were only you.

Foggy brain
Sleepless brain
Brain full of thoughts

Let me rest
Let me tame
My own heart

I cannot breath
I cannot see
What's coming for me

Every night
Every time
Afraid of myself

Creating fear
Creating dread
Over something that doesn't exist

I know I'm out of order
I know it doesn't make sense
But nothing matters

when I feel this awake

The Bankers pledge.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Barriers built we’re safely behind
What makes you think we’re worth support
That they are for sure the master race
The cash they grant hand over hand
Has limits to it , and that’s a fact.

Have they ever taken their pound of flesh
Do you think you can expend so much cash?
They are taking plans to now enslave you.
Take that plastic card they offer you today
Choose a number and now go out to play.

The maze that you are in , it grows and grows.
And you don’t see just how out of control
The numbers grow with little hope of paying
You are a prisoner of this awful nightmare
No solution offered except another poem?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip
December 12th 2018.

you don't know it...

But I can't
I just cannot rip out pages from my journal
you do not understand

The only thing you understand is...