A VERY SORE IRE POEM DARK POEM
I am in so such severe pain
The fierce streak that rips my throat
The burning sense that compliments it
Travels all the way down my oesophagus
And joins the very sore tyre across my stomach
My chest feels like a heavy block
The pain in my head is something of dread
My face is in so much pain
My eyeballs are so very sore
My cheeks are so very sore
My fingers are very sore
My wrists feel somewhat weak
There is no one that could take a peek
In this dead man if they took all week
There is nothing they would find, not even a leak
There are odd sensations from head to toe
And my stomach never stops gurgling
I just don't feel right at all
From this life I want to fall
Because it is not worth living at all
I feel it is not worth it at all
If I could end it I would not care
I just wish I had in me that dare
For my life that is not fair
And has not been been for many a year
And the very end is near, I fear
Shame I am not shedding any tear
There is nothing that I hold dear
Could I make it any more clear
I am heading to death's door in fifth gear
And the life I want to lead is no were near
I want a magician to suddenly appear
With a wand so sharp as a spear
And sort me out so the pain was all clear
But there is no hope for this poor dear
Not even one that in looking as a seer
Could also not ever determine the all clear
So there is no celebration, not even here
I hope I will sleep well though my life is so austere
It cannot be still here at the end of the just started year
The overwhelming utter feeling of my life in fear
Know absolutely not to be quelled by amber bear
This unquestionably total and utter worst ever cursed perdition
BED WITHOUT DREAD DARK POEM
I feel like I need the back and forth rocking chair despair
To sedate me from this life that is in such disarray
It is so long since I needed an ashtray
I just wish there was a jolt like that could not take my pain away
It is late afternoon right now, and what am I to do with this eve
When racked in pain, right through every bit of me
With utterly and totally and unquestionable muscle spasm
I just want my life to be pain free
There is nobody and nothing will help me
How I would love to be “Born Free” like a female lion.
Maybe I could be that lioness and be set free
That is where I would like to be so not to suffer anymore pain
In my life there is no happy lucky thee, no evidence of any glee
Is this monstrous pain always going to be to much for me
I desperately want to lay my head on my bed without dread
For this man that feels so close to dead
Will I ever experience the notion of a rocking chair that will lead me out of despair.
BRUISES FOR WINE DARK POEM
Had two bad bruises on both middle fingers and took an ice bottle out of the freezer and pressed hard on them twice and they were all but gone. I went on a walk today and found a twenty pence piece, scratched by others walking, obviously seen by my keen eyes. Then I rested my calf muscles, sitting on my towel, on my Rock Thrown. And bounced my calf muscles up and down, whilst meditating. I used the towel eight-fold length-ways and did twenty bench press ups on the back of a park bench. Then for a laugh, I draped the towel over my arm, imitating a waiter “What would you like for dinner, and any wine sir, and could you let me know about your breakfast requirements for tomorrow morning.
CAN YOU FEEL IT DARK POEM
Can you feel sadness the envelopes
When you know that your mind develops
With knowledge that is so incredulous
That sleeps is the utter reverse of tremendous
That leads to life so horrendous
Feeling the acute sense of a death wish
Nothing at all, even a little fishy on a dishy
That the taste buds wants to pass a total miss
For the throat is so sore it does not miss
The stomach does not want to receive in such distress
All this physical sensations quit plainly expressed
How the mind translates to such disarray
And now does not want to live on any day
Because it is not wanted, for any hurrah
Not even a romp in the hay on a sunny day
It is all riven from the knowledge of not sleeping
Death must be ensuing in bounding leaping
In a life that is horrible and so creepy
All that is wanted is a good night sleepy
Just anywhere at all, even in a tee pee
Probably not anywhere near Tiptree
DEAD DREAD DAY DARK POEM
I wake up with fearing I am dead
With intrepid worry of the day ahead
A lot of my scribes mentioned as said
Because it has long since been in my head
It was noon when I rose from my bed
I am in so much horror and dread
As already attested food balloon lead
Any step in life I fear to tread
Because my life is hanging by a thread
Just wish my mind and body were heavenly wed
Because of the long ride ruin in mind instead
Upstairs I am now gingerly tread
For the god damn dread of the day ahead
DEAD MAN AND MUM DARK POEM
Just been for a walk with my Mum
I am feeling a dead man unfortunately
I do not want to live this life
There is nothing on this earth to help me
Because I just know it cannot be
My face aches like a bruised bee
To say face ache to a being
Is an insult that should not be
My throat is ever the worst of me
There is nothing to help me
Because I just know it cannot be
I am feeling a dead man unquestionably
My chest and stomach just feel so sore
My muscles ache, back particularly
There is nothing that is going to help me
Because I just know it cannot be
I don't want to live this life
I am definitely feeling like a dead man obviously
It seems what it will be will be inevitably
Inexplicably my throat track to my ear
Is something I don't want to wear
DESPERATION DARK POEM
I feel desperately ill
Every muscle is moldy ill
All my joints are jealousy ill
My eyes are engagingly ill
My fingers are fiercely ill
My stomach is sordidly ill
My throat is terribly ill
My neck is nervous of being ill
My chest is full of catarrh ill
My back is basically ill
My jaw is jaw stopping ill
My mouth is monstrously ill
My teeth are terminally ill
My cheeks are cheekily ill
With this coat of skin so silky ill
My whole body is boyishly ill
DIE EVEN CHRISTMAS DARK POEM
I feel like I am gonna die
There is no way I will make Christmas
To eat home made mince pies
I bet I will never be suited and booted with a tie
If I were an office bod I would not file
A dated telephone operator with no dial
I could be eaten by a crocodile
Perhaps that would be an apt way to die
One snap of the Jaws and a spin
I would not then need a coffin to fit in
If I were a cushion I would have no pin
If I were a clown I would not have any smiles
If I were a country lane I would have no styles
If I the fastest runner I would collapse before the mile
If I were a sore bottom I would not have any piles
If I was a dead body, no buzzing of any flies
The wicked people would not tell any lies
The scriber desires he ends up in fires and pyres
DIRE JOKE FOLK DARK POEM
I wake up feeling absolutely and totally dire
Spent like a ragged and torn tyre
Which floods me with anger and ire
I am exhausted and filled with smoke
It is fathomly so deep water no joke
I feel if I eat anything it will make me choke
Nobody on this earth can help, not even folk
Perhaps I should down some brandy and coke
I am to start the day in a bath soak
I just utterly and totally want rid of this pain cloak
Wish I could stand proud like a ripe old centuries oak
Or a lovely warm fire that needs a gentle poke
I am so utterly poorly and broken
Just wish somebody would gift me a well token
And start the so wanted path for the unbroken
DYING BELL TOLLS DARK POEM
Everybody knows they will die
For some the bell tolls early
For other disease snuffles them out
There are mishaps suddenly happening
Tragic accidents can be shocking
Some escape by a form of magic
Some were in the right place at the right time
Some were in the wrong place at the wrong time
Some just fade away peacefully
Without a cursed pain, to take them
As perhaps as one when sleeping
FEELING EVERY DAY DARK POEM
I have this feeling every day
It causes overwhelming dismay
Oh deer, oh tragically fuck
My mind and body have run out of luck
Like I have been run over by a truck
Or I have shotgun a load of ducks
Life is not worth worth a single buck
For this life I lead has run out luck
I want my life to be deadly tucked
For this life surely totally sucks
There is no way it could be unlocked
Just put me on a pyre so on fire
To represent my life so dire
Caught up in ripped wire
There is no cow I want to sire
I have been out for a walk
Everyone in winter clothing
So I have something in my locker
Even though my life is a shocker
FIERCE BODY PAIN DARK POEMS
I am in so such severe pain
The fierce streak that rips my throat
The burning sense that compliments it
Travels all the way down my oesophagus
And joins the very sore tyre across my stomach
My chest feels like a heavy block
The pain in my head is something of dread
My face is in so much pain
My eyeballs are so very sore
My cheeks are so very sore
My fingers are very sore
My wrists feel somewhat weak
There is no one that could take a peek
In this dead man if they took all week
There is nothing they would find, not even a leak
There are odd sensations from head to toe
And my stomach never stops gurgling
I just don't feel right at all
From this life I want to fall
Because it is not worth living at all
I feel it is not worth it at all
If I could end it I would not care
I just wish I had in me that dare
For my life that is not fair
And has not been been for many a year
And the very end is near, I fear
Shame I am not shedding any tear
There is nothing that I hold dear
Could I make it any more clear
I am heading to death's door in fifth gear
And the life I want to lead is no were near
I want a magician to suddenly appear
With a wand so sharp as a spear
And sort me out so the pain was all clear
But there is no hope for this poor dear
Not even one that in looking as a seer
Could also not ever determine the all clear
So there is no celebration, not even here
I hope I will sleep well though my life is so austere
It cannot be still here at the end of the just started year
The overwhelming utter feeling of my life in fear
Know absolutely not to be quelled by amber bear
This unquestionably total and utter worst ever cursed perdition
FIRE TORMENTOR DARK POEMS
Tormentor poems are to be written no more
Any thoughts of the same are too dire
So there is no reasoning behind a door
Negative phrases do not appeal anymore
Each will be written and no entry sign to draw
Then each will be lit individually to fire expire
Hopefully teaching the mind not to inquire
Therefore my mind would live less dire
Any of those thoughts would be extinguished
By the mindful thought of the exit pyre
GESTURE OF GOOD BYE DARK POEMS
I feel like I am going to die
From this life I just want to fly
With the gesture of good bye
With all the scribes,
I don't have to give reason why
I don't feel the Stone bow Unit even tried
I have only said little white lies
Always excellent for rack clothes dry
Always want England to score tries
Always attracted to warm glowing fires
Never liked any proper wrong liars
Always like people who were triers
Quite handy with tools and pliers
And pity the stud bull that sires
Once sore a show that was called "Wires"
I spend all eve in pain, all day in serious ire’s
I hate my life as I feel day by day it expires
Have to remind myself if teeth not ire’s
To relax my jaws so they don't ire’s
My neck feels like ripped and torn tires
My fingers especially feel like fires
My cheeks are like funeral pyres
My head aches like torn telephone wires
My chest torments me like distasteful liars
My stomach gurgles like baby criers
And overall my life is such strong dire
HELL DEATH KNELL DARK POEM
I am so tired of this tell
That I really am unwell
And tired of this living hell
Just want to hear the death knell
And anything inside me will not yell
And there is the tell of eating hell
And nothing of me will ring any sort of bell
For it is certain the life I lead is so unwell
And there is nowhere on this earth I want to dwell
And there is not any conversion I will enjoy to tell
And no hope of any solution to take me out of this hell
And my body if embalmed well will not even smell on this life to no longer smell
And if of old earth tale of the very edge of it have a fell
And finally this terrible inside feeling will quell
And what is left of this life I don't want to foretell
Because if can't be anything but living hell
I am right to type this story of my life
Because the feeling inside is so insidious
It is nothing but scornful hideously hated
And oh so wish my life was forthwith abated
Because it most definitely extreme hatred
And is in total dismay nothing can be treated
And this story so many times been repeated
These typing are in the early morning stated
I am so wrought in pain now it has to be stated
It has turned from my life of not wanting to live it
To a state worse than life to actually live it
Just for the record it is nearly 1 pm in five minutes
I did shed a tear for the TV for what was on it
(but just muttered under my breath could be cos so ill in it)
It was about a maths teacher who taught them it
From grade 7 to 3 star GCSE for the whole class achieve it
And a Television presenter stating it was evidence for everyone to achieve it
Which has been my mantra for everybody to hear it, and learn from it
I just feel terribly dead in it, I just feel terribly dead in it, I just feel terribly dead in it,
Like a pebble that has been tumbled and rumbled by the sea and all that is
Left of it is tiny granules of sand which does bare any evidence on land
Just like me no gestures or treatment has learnt me a hand in this same land
SHIP START DARK POEM
I am a dead man who feels like he is gonna die
I could not ingest any more not even a pie
He is so bad, all he wants is his bed, to rest his sore very sore head
And wishes beyond any compare that he was dead
And then his terrible plight would never had to be said
The bed he wants as well as his head, is fatigued body
He would not want anyone else to have this pain
Quite easily said, it is nothing but a dirty drain in its reign
It is 6 o'clock and this poor blighted does not want to rock
And worries he may not even rise tomorrow with a clock
His mother phoned him today, proclaiming I sounded better
It could never be, even if it was a signed and stamped letter
And it is apparent that he will not become that better
A choice now could be off to the pub, for one is a masker
But he knows he cannot become any darker, or even darker
And as soon as he read, the ship start
He new why he penned it earlier, because felt is peculiar
And now does not want to eat, even if cooked by Delia
So this man is gonna take his meds and descend to bed
Thought about a bath but just can't face it by
With a stomach gurgling like a geyser
And feeling like another wet pooh, of several today
Just to signify this poor man is in utter dismay
And really does not want to live another day
Because he wakes up feeling shit day on day
And is tired of repeating this to say and say
For no one coming back to say yeah
I FEEL SO SHIT DARK POEM
I feel so shit
Every little bit
What shall I do with it
I really feel like taking my life a bit
And I truly don't give a shit
It's off for a bottle of red wine to sip
And can cry my tears and fall into my pit
Or it is off to the pub and pretend is all well it may fit
Or perhaps a hanging fit
Or in a bath I will sit
Until my life is hit
There is no inclination for any bit
Just want to die in any pit
For my life is so shit
Every single piece of me is shit
No point in ringing anyone, because they won't hit
Because no one truly understands it
For they will never shed any light on it
And they just return to what they had on in their own bit
If truth be known its is them or I that has to quit
And perhaps some relative will take out a writ
Who will end up an unceremoniously twit
I NEVER FEEL WELL DARK POEM
I never feel well
And I am sick of the tell
All I want to be is the a tree that fell
So I would not have to live this life of hell
And no more will my life ring a bell
There is no more of my life to tell
I am as unwell as unwell can be
From this life I don't want to be
If I was six feet under I could not be seen
I feel no longer helped
It is obvious has me for real
Even though I play cards and deal
It is possibly without any appeal
For I just feel shit after every meal
If I were a piglet I would not squeal
A dead man I just feel
How can that have any appeal
It is a life that I most certainly don't want to feel
And there is simply no certain deal
That would be a certain ordeal
I wonder if I shall eat another meal
When it does not have any appeal
I am a dead man and that is unreal
Wants the death knell to toil
Like it has never done and hopes to boil
INEPT, SORROW AND WOE DARK POEM
Bed 10.30, now nearly 3 am and have not slept
This is critically and so unfairly inept
My mind of pain and sorrow awake they have kept
How will I feel in the morrow from the second attempt
In a row and I feel so much utterly contempt
And really don't want this life with intent
Listening to music to un-settlement circumvent
And counting down from one 999
This song wording about a heart beat of the day
I already have no heart for the morrow day
When I phone the psychiatric hospital, what will they say
It will most certainly cause me extreme dismay
Because my life is in total and utter disarray
Even worse now because still not sleepy
And that does feel now so utterly creepy
Just don't know how to this life handle
Let the clergymen in churches light me a candle
Because I am odiously burning the midnight oil
For my tortuous lying body in so much turmoil
My throat is just bunged with huge gumboil
LAY IN MY BED DARK POEM
All I want is to lay in my bed
I always have a headache in my head
I always have headache in my head
Food always descends like a balloon lead
And everyday I have a fear with dread
The life I leave is I lead certainly feels like I am dead
My throat is so bad it could not pass a crusty bread
And I am so tired of the being said
I do not want to rise from my bed
From this life I want to be taken and led away
For I cannot see the day ahead
I feel so dire and frightened fearing dead
I am so tired and seriously sad
I have that emotion in me so bad
I don’t think I can eat even a tad
My to much is in so much pain
I am having to tell this yet again
My life is such a terrible strain
Oh this man is in total disdain
I do not want to live another day of this again
Let me depart this life on a steam train
Because life is leaving me down the sewer drain
I would be happy to die by a warrior saline
Do you hear me, my life is so hard
Because it is always Groundhog days
In so much pain and it is such tough drain
Lastly I feel so utterly rife, it blights my life
LYE WHY TRY HIGH DARK POEM
I just want to lye here and die
There is no reason I shall give why
I was never a man to tell a lie
Could be an un-harmful white lie
I was always a truthful guy
My life is such a try
I don't want anyone to pry
My throat is always dry
I feel like I am going to fry
I am far from being a magical high
Anyone else living this life would cry
This is short and sweet and wish good by
MILLS AND ILLS POEM
I feel like I have been through the sleeping mill
Despite the other medications and my sleeping pill
And it is absolutely categorical my body feels like it has been through the mill
And no wonder why I am really really really ill
I ponder and ponder and ponder is it some kind of Kill Bill
If I were all the herbs in the World I would have no dill
If I were a pneumatic power I would have no drill
And if there was three little birds I would not sit on the window sill
If I were and old Victorian shop I would have no till
If I were a restaurant I could not offer a customer a bill
If I were a chemist I would not have any kind of pill
If I were a beautiful angelfish I would have no gills
If I were as pool or snooker cue I would not have a tip
And likewise a barmaid or bar man would not receive any tips
And where all the dustbin lorries dump their loads, the would be no tips
And sure is hell this dead man has not had any helpful tips
And it has been a very long time since a girl has kiss my lips
And if I were the New Orleans bright coloured carnival I would have no thrill
And the fanciest fine laced garment with no woven frill
And one of those greasy breakfasts cooked with no grill
And all the different fruit in the world would bare no pips
And the dated televisions end of eve would not have there pips
And all the pelicans and duck-billed platypuses will have no bills
And all the bath, kitchen and sink taps would never drip
And the old and infirm in patchy ice pavements would not slip
I am so desperately ill I wonder what would kill in terms of the number of a pill
I know there is no point in waiting until the time I will not be ill
Because there is nothing on this earth that can fit that bill
And perhaps the time has come to be the beneficiaries of my will
To enjoy their time spending all that my life offers as a kind of spill
What will this desperately ill man do today as the desperately ill
Knows without a shadow of hope he will never reach not being ill
I don't want anything to pass for the hole it will not fill
There is something in my life that is surely amiss
I just wish there was something that would tell me what it is
And then me completely empty emotion tank can start to fill
Is this something to hold onto for the path to stop the rot of ill
OBSCENE NOT GUARANTEED DARK POEM
My life is so obscene
For the pain I cannot see
I wish I could have some sort of guarantee
Or even some sort of warranty
For this life I do not want to be
Because of the pain no one can see
I do not mind having to pay a fee
If it was successfully mending me
But there is no hope to be
I just know it in my heart to be
From the pain that is enduring habitually
There is no one out of all humanity
That can wave a magic wand mending me
To bring me out of this pain obscurity
I just want my life not a jot literally
I read a book that maths and poetry do not relate
OVERWHELMING PAIN DARK POEM
I am in such overwhelming pain
I don't think I will eat anything again
The pain in my upper chest is in reign
I feel like I have been run over by a train
I would not mind if someone took a slaine
Ending my life in a burning flame
I would end my life with no one to blame
I wish my life as it is will drain
I want to be mortal and not come back again
I am not playing any sort of imitation game
I am feeling very much more than lame
I wish to go in a flash like a majestic crane
There is no one in this life making amends
Because nobody in diligent as they tend
RACKED WITH IT DARK POEM
Oh’ such an itchy head
My face feels the skull
Seriously splintered eyes
Eyeballs bruising brows
Chiselled Cheeks
Torturous tense teeth
Jagged Jack Jaw
Caustic corrosive Catarrh
Horrible horrific taste
Eerily Endless Earache
Razor bladed throat
Searingly scorching neck
Shoulder burning core
Elbow Burning core
Wrought Iron Arms
Fiery Ferocious fingers
Charcoal Charred Chest
Horrendously Hurt Heart
Roasted Rack back
Stormy Sordid stomach
Belly button eye of the storm
Wickedly Wretched wee
Ferociously foul flatulence
Hip burning core
Wrought Iron Legs
Tempestuously tingly toes
Fire fighting fingers
And red hot poker skin
RILEY FED UP DARK POEM
This dead man is Riley fed up
The life that is lead is to end up
Because of lack of sleep, can't hold his head up
His mind is in turmoil with sorrow and distress
It cannot turn off so the nights are sleepless
His throat burns like the midnight oil
Signifying the life that is in so much turmoil
The distress is now on serious boil
There is an intense human fraught worry
That all the medical staff don't seem to be sorry
That nothing has helped this now cast iron agony
It is now at such a pitch it has reached angry
That the strength of this fret is wrought strangely
And the resulting unrest drained of energy
Wished his mind and body just worked in synergy
Just present my body now as a completely dead effigy
And what is left is quite simply nothing that wants to be
SEVERE FIERCE PAIN DARK POEM
I am in so such severe pain
The fierce streak that rips my throat
The burning sense that compliments it
Travels all the way down my esophagus
And joins the very sore tire across my stomach
My chest feels like a heavy block
The pain in my head is something of dread
My face is in so much pain
My eyeballs are so very sore
My cheeks are so very sore
My fingers are very sore
My wrists feel somewhat weak
There is no one that could take a peek
In this dead man if they took all week
There is nothing they would find, not even a leak
There are odd sensations from head to toe
And my stomach never stops gurgling
I just don't feel right at all
From this life I want to fall
Because it is not worth living at all
I feel it is not worth it at all
If I could end it I would not care
I just wish I had in me that dare
For my life that is not fair
And has not been been for many a year
And the very end is near, I fear
Shame I am not shedding any tear
There is nothing that I hold dear
Could I make it any more clear
I am heading to death's door in fifth gear
And the life I want to lead is no were near
I want a magician to suddenly appear
With a wand so sharp as a spear
And sort me out so the pain was all clear
But there is no hope for this poor dear
Not even one that in looking as a seer
Could also not ever determine the all clear
So there is no celebration, not even here
I hope I will sleep well though my life is so austere
SHIT CREEK POEM
I am up shit creek without a paddle
If I were a duck I would not waddle
If I were as turkey I would not gobble
If I were a knitted hat I would have no bobble
I am physically in so much trouble
If I were a collapsed building I would have no squeak or rubble
If I were some leftover mash I would have no bubble
I am really worried about my life it has burst its bubble
I am in big massive critical crisis double
And if you like you can describe it as trouble
I feel like a building that has collapsed to rubble
Or I have taken the worst in terms of tumble
And I am certainly in tortious jumble
I don't know what to do if my stomach does rumble
I wish my life could be just humble
And I haven't taken this massive tumble
SO I'LL, I'LL, ILL DARK POEM
How so ill ill ill
No pill pill pill
Grinding in the mill
Sensing ill will
Jack and Jill slipped down the hill
Not having to pay the bill
For incarceration in kind-a jail
There will be no bail
Is it the end if losing tail
And the coffin will nail
The boat will not sail
And nothing will prevail
SO SORE DOVER DARK POEM
I am very sore all over
Have I fallen from the Cliffs of Dover
The desperate child that can't find a four leaf clover
The English cricketer that can't bowl an over
The TV program that finishes with "I think it is all over"
I wonder if my life is nearing over
Because I am sure I won't recover
Any form of me is not worth the bother
It certainly would not entice any lover
I may as well be boiled in a witches coven
Or fired up in a pizza oven
Or murdered by the film eleven
Or drown in the sea of the coast of Devon
I wonder for me what would happen in the gates of heaven
For this dead man to die, it will happen
I wonder what will be the final weapon
It cannot be hurt over the pain so rotten
I wonder how soon this life would be forgotten
I may as well have been Johnny Rotten aka the Sex Pistols which are not forgotten
Perhaps they should play once more and pistol shoot me during the final encore
Then I will die in that horrible gore
Then this fretful life would be no more
This man has cried no wolf to implore
Of his life so twisted with no cure
STREAMING NOSTRILS DARK POEMS
Endeavoring in never ending Flushing drain
Like emptying a boat that keeps on filling
Choking its host with hazardous waste
Working with its companion streaming out
Like two taps that keeping on running
Ha ha ha that button will not cancel our blight
Ha ha ha that white stuff will not stop our flow
Ha ha ha that two spray will not stem our tide
THE BURNING DARK POEM
The core of my pain is burning
Feels white hot piercing in my throat
The ENT medics could not be surprised
That some of it feeds out to my poor ears
Insists on it radiating to my tongue and cheeks
And slithers down my trachea spiking spears
Makes no sense for much to pass into this pain ridden body
For fodder today, Weetabix, chicken vegetable soup moped up with a slice of bread
And all this to make me so ill, is unfathomable to my head
All I can say is I feel so dead, from top to toe
I kind of feel hunched lying down like my shoulders are up to me ears, perhaps it fears
At the moment I have no intention to appear at Stone bow clinic, for Dr Moore has deaf ears
It is no wonder why this desperate deer will sometime soon swig on the amber nectar beer
For his forlorn life the scribe does fear his life
THE PAIN TRAIN DARK POEM
The pain train runs again and again
As it reaches each station
Another carriage is a anchored
More pains enter the carriages
Each carriage linked in chains
Another station, another station
Where will this train reach its destination
All the carriages full to brim with pains
It pulls into the capital station
Reaching its final destination
All the doors open
Will the pains disembark
Or will they settle and park
At this final resting place
Where there is no solace
This pain can face
It is such a horrible place
No school kid would want to trace
No seamstress would chose lace
No young princess would have any grace
No racing car driver would win any race
A marathon runner would not gather pace
A businessman would not have a briefcase
Number two would not be a brace
A drummer boy would have no base
All the school children won't play chase
THE UNKNOWN ILL DARK POEM
The unknown ill as this poor bereft man
Plain as day and has come to deadpan
If only his pain would train for the marathon
And run away, run away, run away to be gone
His mother rang this morn attesting for a way
Changed her mind stating I can do what I want too
I am in such wrought engulfing pain
So in no other mind set I don't want to do
For there is no measure of any pleasure
This poor treasure wants no more pressure
And does not think anyone can reassure
For the obvious life of strife I endure
Just cannot see how to live anymore
Furthest away from a life I would adore
There seems no end to this message of pain
And I wonder how many of these essences
Can be scribes handing out sentences
For all the medical staff misdemeanors,
For example I could be autistic
Have frontal lobe dementia
All the scans, and scopes bore nowt
In particular CT neck scan no significant abnormalities
When it has been constant and now too significant
Because there is a serious complaint high of colossal magnitude
The only way this poem can be construed
The scribe is obviously at an all time low
And really wants the curtains to end the show
There would be no applauding from his kin though
But does not think that they will be an revelations
Because these poems have attested endearingly
And perhaps all of them could be the journey
Definitely no pills over the years has helped
THROAT THROTTLE DARK POEM
My so sore for ever more throat
Like snowy winter with without a coat
Like a sea buoy that can't float
Like a newspaper never wrote
Like the tiniest island so remote
Like being told off all the time don't
Like a telephonist forgetting to write a note
Like a general election without a vote
Like is was charged at by billy goat
Like some angry person that has to vent
Like a camper that could not put up a tent
If it could be cured by some chance remote
Other ailments could be sailed of in a boat
The most important one of acid moat
Life might turn out to be heavenly buoyant
This life to be turn around from being spent
Could be this life turn and be a happy gent
Strolling around and happily he went
So far away from life so crooked and bent
TOTAL DESPAIR DARK POEM
I am in absolute despair
Pierre who does not care
To live this life is so unfair
I really don't have any care
I would take it if I dare
I understand self harm
But it does not have any charm
And I am so far from being calm
Not praying in what they call psalm
Because there is no hope
Just desperate unfair despair
TRUNDLING TRACTOR TYRE DARK POEM
I feel so fucking ill, and so bloody dire
I want to be carved up by barbed wire
Or trundled over by a tractor tire
Or cursed to death by a wretched liar
Or put on a Guy Forks raging fire
Finishing off on a burning pyre
I feel so absolutely terrible ill
I should really take an overdose pill
With chosen of course any drink is vile
I don't want to be on this earth for any while
How can I live with my stomach feeling bile
And when it is every single way a trial
Could be snapped by twirling Crocodiles
Not worth calling any one with a dial
For they could not help me in any while
They would be hapless with my health file
Or the medicines I have taken over time
Have never helped me feel any sublime
I have not been well for too longer time
There is nothing of any quality of mine
Perhaps I should consider bottles of wine
To pass the life so unmercifully vile
Or ingest the hot steaming cow dung pile
It's been so long that my face had a smile
Far to long for my throat feeling vile
Coupled with my neck so on trial
My torso hurts so bad for long while
I just feel so cursed with twisted vile
It is with me in every country mile
I just don't want to live my life of trial
I don't know how I can live this ordeal
Facing prepared room temperature meal
Which does not have and sort of appeal
From this you must understand how I feel
Agree it with some kind legal seal
Not by any unscrupulous sordid deal
Best to be described as shredded wheels
And how desperately despairing feel
No there is no way to mend this wheel
Or replace it with a boot spare wheel
For there is nothing that could help heal
This abandoned young pup silver seal
He could not learn after suckling to meal
What a horrible way of a dying ordeal