"savlon" poems
I could jump out of a plane
and land on my head
in a foam factory
I'll never be dead
tried and tried
accidents to
but I still it seems
I' m here with you.
fall off bikes
get quite sicky
hurt I like
any kind, not picky
What the chance
I am immortal
never falling through that portal
giving trying life a chance
going well
for one last dance
what the hell lies in the future
keep the needles for the suture
savlon bandages and glue
self repair is what I do
time to try and find a life
others battle through their strife
time to get a bit reflective
friends put my ills into perspective
such a selfish little mite
I'm self obsessed and full of *****
will struggle forward day by day
no I am fooling, you all say
probably, I give you that
she said I am a ***** ****
the one reason that I am left
I cannot leave folks all bereft
for now I mean to stick around
and not at six feet underground
so if upon the ground I lie
check my pulse as you pass by
be like a nurse upon a mission
stick me in the recovery position!
Jan 14, 2011
Jan 14, 2011 at 5:20 PM UTC
Savlon is the smell of her sanity.
It scares the demons, they leave her be.
The screaming and crying,
The thoughts of her death,
The slowing of heart-rate
And then her last breath.
It's just disinfectant,
A cream for the ill.
She thinks of what else,
Or who else it could ****
The blue and the white,
These colours are sane.
They clear away smoke,
And soothe her sore brain.
Savlon is the smell of her sanity.
The demons are gone, but now it's all me.
Sep 29, 2011
Sep 29, 2011 at 3:03 PM UTC