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 

Blue...

Blue is the colour of my shoe,

From treds to felt, my fav colours blue.

I never ever, never knew what to do,

Enter sports shop, find shoes, jump queue.

Coz blue is the colour of my team,

30 years gone, and not a title seen.

Southall and Sheedy were the cream,

Curl a 30-yard shot, and rattle goal beam.

But blue is the color of my sun,

Until a runny nose n the sweats no fun.

Pop a few sweeties under tongue,

1000 milligram, it's a daily re-run.

Coz blue is the colour of my loo,

I don't shit funny, but my disinfectants blue.

N I always wipe the seat, a tissue or few,

Not worth sitting wet, trying to hav a poo.

But blue is the colour of the few,

There 2 protect the rich n always there to abuse a few.

Corruptible heroes, shirted in blue,

Rock hard action men but always come in 2s.

And blue is the colour of this Skrew,

I made the name up, only I do the Skrew.

A skrew blue poem, words still true,

My blue screwed up hand, is testimony to this Skrew.

© 2020 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid