Dying

I got told I'm going to die,

Didn't even feel a tear cry,

Was blacked out in Clapham Station,

Til a good mate saved my life.

I got no blood inside me,

Lost so much weight I'm tiny.

Stuck in a familiar ward again,

Can't walk without getting grimy.

The doctors are the usual twats,

Really need to wear dunces hats.

I can't talk to them as their nobs,

But their thinkings really whacked.

I don't really care if I die,

It will be a court surprise.

I just want to get my book out,

So people knew I was alive.

So I'm just wasting away,

Too many meds stop my play.

I need to get on my laptop,

But I'm goofed out every day.

@ 2026 - All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid