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

Held It In

The tin that held a little life, 

Dramatic events, took all day n night.

A break to party for the plane,

Darkness that snuffed out light.

The tin was the only witness,

Became a cannister full of bliss.

It was the only true survivor,

Cracked baccy tin full of hiss.

A faded container wrap,

That saw the animals bones snap.

Tiny metal survival kit,

Scouting 101 animal trap.

A safety pin was the snare,

Balanced over a twig with care.

SAS survival book taught us,

And now we had the hare.

We all sat around the camp fire,

The plane crash was quite dire,

But at least we now had something to eat,

And survivors partied like a Church choir.

© 2026 - All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid

Wildness

Once I heard the wildness outside,

I felt a thunder storm in my mind.

Wild beasts seem to have calmer times,

I'd spent a lifetime, listing all my crimes.

Once I heard the wildness outside,

All I wanted, was run and hide.

Wandering foxes, shine in head beams at night,

As wheely bins are torn on sight.

Once I heard the wildness outside,

I felt a lightning strike, deep inside.

Little frogs crawling out of fright,

Hop to bushes, as feet walk pass by.

Once I heard the wildness outside,

It made me feel warm, tucked up tight.

But sparrows nesting in loft, summertime,

Feel like axes, pecking at my mind.

Once I heard the wildness outside,

It made me wonder, what is life?

For all this nature, and all is bright,

My own future wildness, is cast aside.

© 2025 - Robert Reid - All Rights Reserved

Black

I feel black like a smack and the crack of the back,

Slowly drifting to the end with no coming back.

I am living in the dark coz it keeps me warm,

But I am in pain from the blood stains from the bandages warn.

My bleed is a seed that apparently is making me ill,

So looking forward to that op and the drink I’ll down, pig swill.

Black is the light of the night and sunrise to me,

Go to bed at 5 or 6 and I wake up at midnight you see.

Then everything is chill and I can type away,

The night is my time, if I had to choose when to play,

I only get out of bed early if there is a dox or hoz appointment that day.

Building my BOT, writing, and doing stuff other people do in the day.

And black is the slack in my creaking old back,

With bones and nerves in pain as if I’ve been strung on the rack.

It’s not really a colour but the absence of them all,

But black is the colour that keeps me climbing the wall.

© All Rights Reserved 2022 By Robert Reid