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A "Skrewball poem" , or in short "a Skrew" , is a poem with short lines and multiple rhyming or repeated words, often wi...

Tuesday 10 November 2020

This Is A Shit Show....

Do you believe the countries gone insane?

Fruit drink bugs gonna eat your brain,

Please someone come feel my pain,

Coz I'm alone, stone broke and afraid.

So many unnecessary people dying,

And big men are heart broke, dropped crying.

Dickhead selfish off panic buying,

An all police want to do is fuckin cite me.

Because my health is a fucking shit show,

On more meds than ten Grannies I know.

Blood eeks from the leaks, legs on show,

An bubbles pop from the snot on nose blows.

It's a sweat tank, drip drop, sorry state to be,

And Gandalf's beards half grown face on me.

Grey whiskers and no razors I can see,

Sofa dove already, one two twenty pee.

All tin cans, been scanned, and bin bagged,

Rotten fruit but it's the best meal I've had.

Got no idea if I'll ever see my Mum and Dad,

When I go out, scarf wrapped face, tight clad.

Coz this Town is a fucking shit show,

And my mental health is nagging bad, full blown.

My inner brains having a decent chat show,

And I'm socially isolated, nowhere to go.

Coz I can't even make some decent Ps,

Nags aint running, bookies closed on high street.

I need some soft paper to wipe my underneath,

But got no petrol to fly off to the heath.

Coz it seems like this worlds in martial law,

It's a sign many have seen years before.

I'd be surprised if they relaxed all new laws,

Get used to sweating hot all summer indoor.

I swear I got bugs sucking thoughts from my brain,

Not a days passed that I've been half sane.

Only got a Pot Noodle and half a can of K,

And not a single neighbours asked if I'm okay.

Coz this countries a fucking shit show,

BoJo clown, Tory fucking road show.

Every booked ops gonna be a no show,

And I'd risk ten new fines to make some quick dough.

So this rope here is going to stay,

You never know I might need to use it one day.

I let it swing back n forth an give it a play,

Then kick the chair, doped choked, merry on my way.


© 2020 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid

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