I'm running on the playground of life,
There are so many ways
This can go, to what end,
People hop scotching
Numbers
Squares
In-between,
The lines never told you that the squares
Are fate never moving off one
Or landing on Ten, its a game of
Chance, will you jump
Or stay safely on the footing
The square your on now,
Then there they are those
You know you see them playing
With the rope, around it goes
Skip,
Jump,
Fall,
Jumping over life's troubles,
The more you jump the
Faster
It
Goes
You get caught in the troubles,
"Life isn't now skipping along"
It takes your feet from underneath
Now your just hanging
Feet off the ground
Life,
Death,
Regret,
The rope ends the troubles
The noose tightened
And the troubles
Were last moments
Now you are still,
We will play many games
"Running On The Playground Of Life"
Just don't fall, don't get out of your depth,
Life is for living some games are **better left.

I wanted to end it all,
To finish what had begun
But the cost of living,
Has sky rocketed up
Bullet
Knife
Rope
Aren't as cheap as they
Once were,
The Cost of taking a life
Dollars,
Pounds,
Euros,
Where ever you are
The cost got to
"Much"
Who ever said that death was
"Cheap,"
Has got to much to live for to give a
"****"
I wanted a bullet,
To end this joke,
I wanted one, they said
Lead has gone up,
Two
For
One,
Life's cruel joke,
Is it wasn't funny enough,
I may as well live
Through the
Good,
&
Bad,
Because suicide
Just got too expensive,
Its a rich guys playing field now..

fragile heart she lay ruptured in my lounge chair
grey faced i mumble a few parting words over her
before i lay out the finest bone china
all the makings of tea and biscuits
all the fixings of ******
with the sounds of the snapping of necks
sharp wet sound fresh on the air
she was here to mourn her lover-boy
gone astray
i was here to see the deed done

i was the grey faced hangman
come to get his pennys
in my song you can hear the rope snap
in my heart you can feel the fall from the gallows
and my hangman's noose swinging in breeze
has its own peculiar creaking sound that sounds
like love to me
i was the grey faced hangman
that knows no sympathy
come now you wicked ones
sing my song with me

grey faced i lead the procession
up the graveyard road
the overgrown and thick summer feel to it
claws at the senses
but i keep walking stiffly
with the sound
of snapping necks ringing in my ears
its my song

he had cried like a child as they carried him to the gallows
he had begged and wailed
but my hangman's noose had claimed him
cold comfort awaits
to the tomb they cried out with joy
to the tomb with the scoundrel
while she lay weeping her lost lover-boy
and while grey faced i cleansed the world
of scoundrels like him
while grey faced i silently mourned
for i had run out of rope

Something stirs tonight...
The feeling of providence
Lost in the boldest mark.

White light inspires.
Barriers stay strong.
Glass that won't brake
Cuts more than the surface;
Just a blur of the simplest line.

Sky wide,
Floor safe;
Just the copy of something wrong -
Guiding and getting in the way.

Promise, swear, the weakest lies.
Believe something true.

With smoke and mirrors,
Waves deliver the push
For the slightest brush,
The softest skin.

Sly smiles:
Criticism at its truest worst.
Nothing brought down;
Only a gaze.
Nothing special.

Mistakes that love hate,
Sounds that ring true,
While words compel glitches.

The ambiance of the rope realized.

This is the first act.
Welcome to the show.

They’re there to trick you,
And to trip you.
They make you fail, they break your heart.
But that isn’t even the worst part.

They keep you down,
And make you drown,
In the misery already indomitable.
Just another problem unsolvable.

They ****, they burn.
Not much new to learn.

And so, I keep my eyes forward,
Not sparing them a glance anymore.
And no longer do I move
As I savour my last breath.

Oh God, I have a rope against my neck.