I  think me being unhinged

May have impinged

On this frail reality.

And if this is reality

The final finality.

Where do we go from here?

Do we just sink into another light beer?

It cannot be so.

There is so much to do

And so far to go.

And if we are still the unfertilised eggs

The question once again begs.

Where do we go?

Who is there to show us

The yes and the no,

The exit and entry.

Who is the sentry?

This war has left me so tired

Strung out and wired.

My eyes are bleary.

Tearful and weary.

It’s okay being unhinged

A bit like being tinged,

With screaming red madness

With crying grey sadness.

But I’ve heard this new sensation

Called philanthropic integration.

So I shall give it a try

I shall go out and buy.

Some new trousers,A shirt

And if I feel funny

I might buy a skirt.

Well it takes all sorts

They even have cars in ports.

I guess I’ll just see how it goes

And as usual follow the end of my nose.

A famous last word?

Life is bleedin absurd.


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