WRITING OUT MY MADNESS
When the time comes for me to escape I’ll be glad
But right now all I want to do is simply sit and write
Gripped by an insanity that comes from living in this place
I sit and write as there is nothing else left to do
All the drink has been drunk and all the weed has been smoked
For now, well nothing left to do but sit and write
Thinking of my past life, before I moved to this town
And events, themes, chaos and scenes spark memories that need to be written
As they are as important to me as the things which happen right now
The times at school, of growing up in suburban hell
Of finding the real me in a forest of weed, sublime tales and dirty rock’n’roll
When the summers seemed endless and fun was to be had
The youthful times when I dreamt of being old as no kid seemed to be like me
Or dreaming of being a bin-man as I sat watching a black-n-white TV set
Spending time with my Nan as my parents worked all the time
She’d always whip me at table-tennis when I was aged 9 or 10
Or cut my tomatoes up so small that I wouldn’t even notice them as I ate my salad
Before sitting down to watch the cricket on a test-match afternoon
The days at school, of being the odd one out all the time
Towering over my bullies they would taunt me, freak, and weirdo before
Finally letting their fists and feet fly in my direction
Pushing me closer to a life of isolation where I spent every break-time
Avoiding playing football in the school-yard and hiding away in the library
Fostering a love of books that has long out-lasted my love of humanity
And every one of these incidents and experiences has helped make me
To help make me the kind of person I am today so for that I can only be grateful
But not to the bullies but to those who’ve stood by during this period
When I’ve been totally gripped by an urge to write out my madness