SKЯ3W

Skr3w, screw, barney McSkrew,

Screw them all and screw u too,

Been in a screw job n not 2 few,

Diablo witch screwed r whole crew.

Coz a screws a joe pullin u out of bed,

Stand by the wall put ur hands on ur head,

Open ur pockets and spins out ur bed,

A tru screw never 4gets a word uve said.

Coz a screw in the jaws pain u can't ignore,

Dental abcess my raw jaw is sore,

Too many meds n the floor is my whore,

N I can't even KO headbutting the door.

Coz a screw under my tyre is nothing new,

A skank neighbours plan n I've had a few,

Stuck roadside wiv nothing to do,

Ur wallets blank n ur mates r too.

Coz a screw on a driver is a tool jus right,

Always beware of that tool in a fight,

Plunge that shank n rotate it tight,

Bein pulled close as ur pupils unlight.

Coz a screw with a bird cud be overdue,

It could be the best screw u never knew,

Unthread ur stress the best u can do,

Unpop ur cork as ur nads turn blue.

Coz a screw aint a nail still I nailed it gd,

If u had to Google then u misunderstood,

That the thread of this Scr3w was meant 2 b good,

It only rhymes becoz I Skrewed it good.

© 2020 Rob Reid in pain after the dentist put a filling on top of an abscess!

Painting

I loved that painting so much,

Wanting to reach out so much to touch.

The colours were so rich, I was in love,

Just staring at it gave me a rush.

I wanted to be in it, so real to view,

Wished I could be a character it knew.

The colours leaked from the canvas as if new,

Dripping colours, bright reds, violets, and blue.

The characters so clear I was immersed,

People were so alive, we conversed.

I was inside the painting, my mind was burst,

A character wishing for reality like thirst.

I loved that painting so much,

I was sucked into it, immediately on touch.

I looked back into a crowd in a bunch,

And saw people stare at me, silent in hush.

At first I didn't see the big deal, 

People staring at me, eyes frozen cold steel.

But now I was in this painting for real,

Forever hanging on the wall, for visitors to feel.

© 2026 - All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid

Accused

John was sitting in an office that smelt more like a sterile doctors office as the two older men sat in front of him, notes in hand  barely glancing up at him to make eye contact.

They were suited and booted, perfectly outfitted for the occasion.

"Your records show that you were involved in numerous serious incidences in your late teen years", said the main suit, not looking at him at all.

John thought of the irrelevance of such an assertion seeing it was almost 30 years ago.

How did they know what events had transpired, or why they took place at all.

They were just reading 2nd hand reports, written by people who weren't there at the time themselves, and now making judgments upon them.

He shuffled in his chair, letting the men read from these old notes. The less senior of the two occasionally interrupting the main accuser, trying to add even more irrelevant context to the already ancient unknown to their minds events that the main suit was reading at him.

This was so long ago, that no one but he knew the truth that had expired, yet they were not interested in his views, or the truth.

There was no point explaining anything to these people. Their minds had been made up about him before he had even entered the room.

Peoples minds were always made up about him before he had even opened his mouth.

@ 2026 - All Rights Reserved Robert Reid

Writing

I can't write, I can't type,

My internals R in a fight,

The light in my dots, is 2 bright,

N my stretched skin, is flared white.

I don't feel tops, to see youz,

But still want, to be with youz. 

You're fundenental, my writing crew,

I'm jus 2 twisted up, 2 write wiv uz.

U don't want to see the ooze,

From my wounds, seepin thru the gooze, 

Or numeriz cutsiz n bruise, 

All cluz 2 my need, 2 b soothed.

Or the darts in my eyes, 

As I try n fail 2 disguise. 

The pain n anguise inside, 

From a kneecap 2 my ego n pride.

So I sit alone, in my own zone, 

Ignoring constant beeps, on my phone. 

Soon my home won't be my own,

I'm vanished, alone, time wasted in stone.

© 2026 - All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid