paper covers history.

bent on layers

of time, pretending.

hope falls from heaven
underneath pains umbrella
i feel the nothing

as I left the theatre
she held the door open for me
the hint of a smile on lip-sticked lips
slipping into her leather jacket
to combat the cold night air
leaving an intoxicating trace of perfume
I'm just a face in the crowd
that she never noticed or will remember
" cheers " and an attempted smile
as we interacted for the only time
in our lives, but I miss her
she stole my lust
and a youth I never had

I'm going through a quiet patch
the voices have lost their urgency
turning to annoying whispers
sometimes they give me a line
and I ignore it, try to remember
then regret not writing it down
it's almost nice, the quiet
I still have the urge, but not
the spark to carry it out
like an old dog that lies
on the step in the sun dreaming
that once he could've herded sheep
but it's beyond him now
so dreaming is all he has left
but the sun is warm on his back
and there's always tomorrow

wherever men gather
there is the hierarchy of deceit
there are those that know
those that think they know
and the sucker
who's the **** of the joke

wherever men gather
there is the hierarchy of the beast
there are those that rule
those that think they're in charge
and those who shelter in the shadow
of all of the above

wherever men gather
there is a code
wherever men gather
high or low
never to tell the secrets
they all know

in the end
every warzone looks the same
eyeless broken buildings
personal possessions strewn
across rubble scattered streets
the odd house
against all odds still standing
the sudden shock of a body
the husk of a life
where is the victory
where is the glory
why do men have to break so much
just to say they won

never too near a vein
the pills
left where they can be found
and always someone on hand
to save the day
your silent shout
heard by distant crowds
who want to help
but don't know how
one day you have to realise
just how ******* mundane
life is
then you can join in
with the rest of us