Complicated Life*

Waiting for Mum

To pick me up

From the flat 

I feel numb.


Consumes me.

All the drugs I take,

All the side effects:

Wonder if anything

Actually helps.

They’re keeping me

Alive, they say –

Another day –

Time marches on


It’s May,

I’m thirty eight

I wait –

For life to improve.

I hope it does,

I still have hope

As through the 

Endless fog

I grope.

The rain falls:

It’s rained for days.

The garden needs it:

But I’m trapped

Inside my flat,

Inside my mind.

And, never far away

The darkness threatens

To engulf me

Once again.

Darkness, rain –

Some summer this 

Is turning out

To be.

And so I fight on:

Lifting weights,

Knitting rows –

Exhaustion grows.

The world turns

On its axis

All I can do

Is practise

For that day

When all my troubles

Drift away.

Writing this,

Lying on my bed

My head


My tummy’s


Just a few minutes more.

Then Mum will be here,

Then I’ll be home

With my fluffy –

Stroking his soft orange fur

Listening to him purr.

The washing machine

Whirrs and bubbles

All my troubles 

Are so small –

In the scheme of things

They matter not at all.

And there is light,

There will be sun

If I just keep going

There’s no way of knowing

What will happen

In the end.

I defend

My right

To write

Bad poetry:

It helps

To get it down

On paper.

Later I’ll read this 

And shudder

But for now

It’s all I have to say.

After all,

Tomorrow is another day.

Happy Thursday everyone!
*1971.  Song by The Kinks.  Written and produced by Ray Davies.  Appears on the album Muswell Hillbillies.

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