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