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