Court

Beep, beep, beep, 

Got no sleep.

My fams outside, 

2 collect the black sheep. 

Coz court is sport, 

But judgement aint short. 

3 hour time 4 a crime, 

Mad circus, I'm fraught. 

Statements of fact, 

Contain bull crap. 

Was medically frazzled, 

Now it's a lethal attack. 

Stuck with no defence,

All my shrinks were bent.

Paper files all destroyed, 

Now a new beak has bn sent. 

She's read no dox, 

Admitting from her spot.

So I'm looking at a stretch,

From her eyes 2 the dock.

Would hv gone down, 

Never seen round town.

Guess it was my health n shiz, 

That got me out of the pound. 

I thought life wud get better, 

But drama with each letter.

I'm in a black hole of depress,

Tryin not to think of the big shredder.

Dunno what to do, 

Doctors got no clue.

Gettin sent round the houses, 

It's all givin me the blues. 

What is the point of this life, 

If all I got is pain, trouble, n strife. 

Got to find a reason to breathe, 

Coz it's just mad stress all the time. 

@ 2026 - All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid

Speech

Blue don't like the way I talk,

They say I slur so want to make me walk.

Sorry officer if I don't speak 2 ur like,

But there's no way I'm swapping wheels for a bike.

I pass every drink n drug test,

And I try and talk 2 u my best.

But coz I'm on a medical u hassle me,

Even though I got no driving crimes 2 see.

U keep telling me ur worried coz of my patter,

But what the fuck has that got to matter.

Ur just causing me DVLA shit for fun,

Jus coz u never liked my means n run. 

All you cops are just the same,

Out to ruin another man's game.

Your just ruining my night n day, 

Filling in forms for the DVLA. 

I think I might switch my wheels for a scoot,

Just so I can pass old blue with a 2 finger salute. 

© 2026 - All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid

Notting Hill

In the huge crowd, bustled along,

People dancing, sound systems and chicken sales,

The music pounds, bones shake and we smile,

Cops stand on walls, as mollys sold below,

The huge expensive houses, have devalued to love.

Too much gum chewing, and skins on million pound stairs.

The parade is ignored as we dance in off limit streets,

Bass and drums, and a million moving feet.

© 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

SKЯ3W 2

SKЯ3W Epstein, n screw the news,

Vampire Satanic shiz, giving me the blues. 

Skr3w the elite, n Skrew the u know who's,

This GoySlops makes us not know what to do.

Right this is a Skrewball all bout SkЯ3win, 

It's flesh rot bog clot, hot pot stewin. 

I don't care what u might now be doin,

It's time 2 get rap tight, wrong write, SЯ3wball Skrewing.  

So the main man ain't 2 happy,

Got a goggled eyed baby, whose turned too dappy.

His wife's asked him 2 change his nippers nappy,

Coz his baby's assholes, gone all crappy. 

Sloppy gloopy sunny side ups,

His misses needs a proper measuring cup. 

She can't cook eggs so wats da fux up, 

Man needs a woman, 2 clean up his muck up. 

 So fuck this, he's off for a drive,.

But got blue lights flashin, right behind,

TBH he don't really mind,

He shudn't B driving, wen he's legally blind.

So he gets pulled over by the dibble,

There mouths R frothing wiv spit n dribble.

He's getting nicked by PC Wibble,

So cold out here, he's got beach bra nipple.

Man is 1 that don't take shit, from might right bissies,

So gets right fightin tight n silly. 

Then some cock cop, whacks him in the willy. 

N now gettin clobbered by their extended Billy's. 

 

So now he's in a wagon with a piss head,

Blood splattered alchie, drunk ol dick head.

Get 2 the station 2 get his rights read,

Put in a box 4 a night's free blue bed. 

 But at midnight he gets a real cop treat, 

3 blue come in n he g3ts a mattress beat.

One cop gives him a feather tickle on his feet, 

N another 1 gives his balls a mighty ol tweak. 

Black blue bubbling cop rot shop,

Escaped from jail, nearly got shot. 

Black eye, red eye, nose n snot, 

Base balled legs n bloods runnin hot. 

But that's the fun of the cops, 

Get 6 o'clock knocks on his battered door box. 

Rushes to hide all his stolen sox, 

N hides his stash like a sly ol fox. 

Now got s chicken soup, hot rash, nut sack, 

Seems 2 hv got cock rot, from lovin his slag, 

But she's in a hump coz she's on the rag, 

So off 2 da clinic, 4 a spatula down his crack. 

Smallpox, chicken pox, hd em all, small pup, 

Bone rot, head blok, now got a sore Cock, 

Balls hot, pants dropped, dox got a real shock, 

Now it's pecker slot, red hot as in goes da spatula pop.

So this is a bubbled up, fucked up, mental Skrew,

Wat it means I ain't got a fxxking clue. 

But I'm jus Skrewballing, all Of u,

N that's my homework for u writing crew,

 

© 2026 - All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid

 

Blues

My blues aint the tune u might all use,

Coz it's a hangman's noose, that's always loose.

So I slip into my bright blue swede shoes,

The glow seeps thru my skin, like blood thin juice.

I still have that feel of those new bought treds,

When my skin had each brand new blue thread.

It faded through time, like childhood dread,

But still makes me feel warm, like a new sprung bed.

But I aged like the sneaks on my feet,

Without forgetting that aged old sweat beat.

I kept kicking on, like a worn out sheet,

And I smile to every cat, I randomly meet.

It reminds me of my childhood trips,

Standing on the rocks, staring at the ships.

Every crisis has been just another blip,

As I kept rising 2 the top, after every dip.

So 2 me the blues are just the ones n twos,

Flashing behind me, on a nightly peruse.

I put it to the back of my mind, like ancient news,

N let my rhymes tell the clues, 2 my life's unsung blues.

© 2026 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid 

Head Shrink

Do you internally think?

Thinking you need a head shrink?

Twenty one eyed wobbly blinks,

Coz a voice in ur heads linked.

I'm schizo, rizo, paranoid dizo,

Anxious, rancorous, mentally smart tho.

Twitchy itchy, living in a kill zone,

Always searching, looking 4 my birth clone.

Has ur brain gone wonky?

Working like a 3 legged donkey?

Planning to throw a ghost party?

Led astray by your monkey?

Coz depression is a constant mission,

Brain atoms split like nuclear fission.

Bed sweats from constant pillow kissin,

Want 2 take a dive n go forever missing.

Got bed rot, n old blood clots,

Never gonna be back at top spot.

Get arrested 4 a hot shot,

N nicked 4 murder by dumb cops.

So go and get ur meds filled,

I'm over scripted like a cow field.

My chemist always has the good pills.

But nothing takes away my brain ails.

Maybe ma heads always gonna be fucked,

Internal plumbing needs a plunge suck.

But what can I do about this head fuck?

Maybe I've just run out of luck?

© 2025 - Robert Reid - All Rights Reserved

I'VE BEEN SKЯ3W3D

Some thought I was kind.

I made a few girls smile,

N I had a few laughs, 

As I stumbled 4 miles.

Sister was my parents child,

So they thought, sweet n mild. 

I was the black sheep, 

So everything I did was wild.  

But I did a bad thing, 

It was serious I think. 

I can't even remember the act, 

Or even get a good shrink. 

Police came mob handed, 

Bent cops, drugs were planted. 

2 Neighbours watch dismayed,

As I was carted off n man handled.

Brief said go "no comment", 

It was a bad moment, 

As the crime was recited,

N I faced my opponents. 

That cold empty cell, 

With that stale toilet smell.

Crushed up in the blue mattress, 

Rattling cold in laws hell. 

I got a Police grey jog suit, 

But I'm now lookin at a law suit, 

I'm going away 4 a long time,

So pls giv me some dub 2 toke. 

Coz I don't need to sell my soul, 

The Devils already got full hold.

I signed his contract, 

To avoid Dante's dark hole. 

The world's a cruel jungle, 

I despair at liars mumbles. 

You can keep that green veg,

I'll eat the apple crumble. 

Girls would sell themselves n go, 

Hassle rattled their dealers flow. 

NHS paid 4 their dead babies,

As a Shotter ain't marrying a Crack Hoe. 

I used 2 sell some food, 

Dark or White, was up to u.

It's food for any dark soul,

N my souls been well abused.

But being just alive, 

Was a shitty way 2 survive. 

Going on the earn, 

Jus 2 play the Devils pipe. 

Smoked a mountain of Crack, 

It gave me heart attacks. 

Now it ain't beating too well,

N my bodies got no slack. 

So I put the Devils pipe away,

There was no good tune 2 play.

No more ash on Coke cans, 

Or rainy alley way sways. 

One day some1 might find, 

My body, dead cold n blind. 

Smelling of defecation,

Cold wirey smoke killed mine. 

Life had treated me crook, 

My dead body was thrown in a brook. 

There was no funeral n wake 4 me. 

But did anyone bother 2 look? 

@ 2025 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid

WILD

In the alley’s gr8 escape,

My souls caught on a deadly hook.

A needle whispers 2 my veins,

“I’m that one you chose n took.”

Dub smoke curls like ghostly fists,

Choking on my forgotten sin.

Pulse rapid like some time bomb,

It's too late, I can't begin.

Smacks a warm lovers embrace,

A kiss that stopped my heart beat.

My brain skipped 2 a dead man’s groove,

The drums banging constant defeat.

My lungs collapse like paper bags,

Every breath a stolen prize.

Eyeballs roll back 2 meet the void,

I forever close my bloodshot eyes.

OD’s shadows claim the weak,

Coffins filled with lifes regret.

Mourners weep in pawn stores,

Debts they can’t escape or forget.

Pain’s a nasty 4 letter word,

That claws beneath my itchy skin.

Screams echos thru holes of pain,

Where daylight’s worn it paper thin.

Anger brews in shot glass swigs,

Double Vodka shots of hate.

Crime’s the only language left,

When fate slams the entry gate.

Police sirens wail like lullabies,

4 the damned n forever lost.

2 the grave or 2 the cage,

Either way, it's a deadly cost.

© 2025 - All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid

Goodbye Dad

This goodbye poems to my Dad,

It's the hardest poem pen 2 pad,

N makes me so, so, sad, 

I'm so, so, sorry I made u crazy mad. 

Sorry for the short candle wick, 

I know I was a proper dick. 

Fucking about, getting nicked, 

Fighting police n acting a prick. 

Sometimes I thought we'd actually fight,

Drunken rows n throwing r might. 

It didn't matter who was right.

I'd B upstairs angry 4 the night. 

Argued over the kitchen table,

About war, politics, n news fables. 

I was painted with a black label, 

We'd make Mum cry, N go unstable.

I was ignored from around 14,

True, I was prob an awful teen. 

But Lorna seemed 2 get all the glean, 

Though she seemed just as mean. 

I know I was on drugs very young,

Toking dubs, banging, acting dumb. 

Still u always held ur tongue.

Even tho I was a black sheep son. 

All those police 6 clock knocks, 

I used to wake at 6 on the dot. 

Pigs searching thru my pants n socks,

Me standing in 2 many court docks. 

Sorry Dad for all the knocks on ur door, 

Cops raiding ur home, crimes 2 the core. 

All my clothes thrown on the floor, 

I couldn't hv got arrested any more. 

It was only later on we got on,

After I left home n got on my own. 

U seemed to treat me like a son, 

On Thursdays, we even had some fun. 

We used to hav joy down the lake,

Walking in the woods a Sunday take.

Chewing the chud for no good sake, 

N fishing with our hands ffs! 

U always helped me out, wen I was stuck,

Didn't matter the price in bucks. 

Car crashes, n cash wen I clucked, 

Any help I needed, I was in luck.

U became more of a mate than a Dad,

N this is what screws me bad. 

Wish I made most of the time we had.

And it cuts me deep 2 not B ur lad.

I'll be going away soon for good,

Nothing can stop it I wish I cud.

I did something bad, I knew I wud, 

So I hope we both understood.

That I love u Dad whatever I did,

Pissed disputes, cop raids n shit.

Police can do one, I'm still ur kid.

I wish my life was different, every bit. 

I was going to be there at ur end,

But shits happened I can't pretend.

Not 2 B with u drives me round the bend. 

I leave u with sadness hope u ken?

© 2024 - All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid

Goodbye Mum

Goodbye, goodbye,

Goodbye Mum.

I'm so sorry, sorry for,

Being your son.

Your roast dinners,

Were something to boast.

But I'm sad u never got to live,

Ur days out by the coast.

I know u probably stayed,

To look out over me.

N I'm so sorry for them cops,

Breaking in urs with no key.

I know I was no good, 

At following your rules.

N I shouldn't hv been misled, 

By so many idiots n fools. 

You taught me so well, 

Probably better than school. 

But life is a bitch,

N I just acted the fool. 

The life that I wanted, 

Just wasn't in store.

N the life that I lived,

I just couldn't handle no more.

But I love u so Mum, 

Just pls know that it's true.

N all u did for me, 

Was more than u knew. 

© 2024 - All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid

No Smart Shoes

I got no smart shoes, but got food,

You want some food?

I got dark or white, it's up 2 you,

It's food for the soul, and my souls well abused,

My shoes don't shine but yours don't too.

Coz I got no roof over ma head and ma cars ma bed,

I park down alleys, n pull ma coat over ma head.

My friends pretend, but don't let me rest ma legs,

I beg n beg but get ripped 2 shreds.

Coz a friend in need is a friend who thieves,

I've woke before 2 find friends on their knees.

Sifting through ma tings, taking what they need.

My pills n cash your supposed 2 leave.

I'd tell u the truth but never know where 2 begin.

My shoes may not shine, but 100% they're mine,

Never going down 4 a heist on Clarkes, damn stupid crime.

Treds cleaner than my bed n well past their prime,

But if anyone mugs me off I'll happily do the time.

Coz a friend in need must be a friend with greed,

Their needs so deep, they forget you in a heart beat.

A place to stay isn't a doggy treat,

They'd rather call the law than let me rest my feet.

So do you want these shoes, I say exist?

A pair of feet golden from the sun, but moon blessed.

Ten rough blistered toes, that the devils kissed,

Bore a baby from the Gods, but ill conceived, half pissed.

I maybe bat fuck crazy, but mans no joke full toke,

I fill small rooms with fumes ignore signs not 2 smoke, 

But I'm still a stand up man, n all round good bloke,

Yet if u rob me once you'll die in my choke.

Coz I done time, thrown lines and stood in line 4 brine,

What's yours is mine, and what's mine is mine.

I got an eye 4 wheels n never paid a speeding fine,

Cash on tap whoever said it don't pay well crime?

So go walk a mile, in my soiled wet shoes, 

Go slow, two by two, like rats led by a flute.

Tred my well worn path with a laugh, n give that man a toot,

N don't be the slow fat cow that farmers shoot.

Coz a friend in need is a friend who bleeds,

Shared blood in a stall, passed works beneath.

For a supposed friend, he could had said goodbye with a tweet,

Coz a year then passed before he was found dead in the street.

Coz I aint got no smart shoes, but have you?

Or are your treds worn dead, a sick man with no clue.

A suited fat lawyer, pimping a room with no view,

No win no fee, but still got time 2 sue.

Coz I count the real friends on my pinks, from head 2 toe,

A real friend will lend n don't put on a show, 

That's why I don't have real friends, they're a bar set too low,

N I walk these smart shoes alone on da path I know.

© 2024 - All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid

SKЯ3W THE SY$T£M

I’m sick of the system, that keeps me down, 

I’m sick of bent cops, that hound me round town. 

I’m sick of their rules, that tell me what 2 do, 

I’m sick of lies, they feed me as true. 

I don’t need their money, 

I don’t need their jobs. 

I don’t need their gang, 

I don’t need their mob. 

I don’t need their meds, 

I don’t need their pills. 

I don’t need their carers, 

I can't pay their bills. 

I got my own sw33ts, 

I got my own st@sh. 

I got my own p1pe, 

I got my own £cash£. 

I got my own mind, 

I make my own choice. 

I say what I want, 

I got my own voice! 

I’m a rebel, 

I’m a 1der, 

I’m a poet, 

I bring thunder⚡ 

I’m a visionary, 

I made da SKЯ3W, 

I’m a legend, 

I speak da truth. 

But...

Skrew their system, 

Skrew their laws. 

Skrew their crusades, 

Skrew their wars. 

Skrew their power, 

Skrew their hate. 

Skrew their world, 

As they skrew my fate. 

© 2023 Copyright Rob Reid

Light

Light, Light, turn out the lights,

Red laser beam, it shines so bright.

Fall on the floor and duck n cover,

I’ve had too much n I don’t want to suffer.

Cold sweat soup with drips of blood,

Cuts so deep it’ll be a red flood.

But the lights so bright I can’t take any more,

The 6 o’clock knock and the police at my door.

Stuck in a cell with a blue mattress,

Times flying by I wouldn’t wish this.

Cells lights so bright it burns my eyes,

I got hot nose sniffles, n red eye cry.

Knock, knock, that 6 o’clock knock,

I used to wake up at 6 and hide any food I got.

Psyched out, it’s been too many years,

I wake at 6, thinking the doorbell rang in my ears.

I hate this life and I hate this shiz,

But two weeks clean n I’ll be dreaming of this.

Can’t help myself but I can help others,

Easy to preach with a penny of b undiscovered.

I sneak in the bog anytime I like,

Pull down my pants and turn on the light.

Need a long green I got to dig so deep,

Into my flesh I hunt veins to sleep.

Dream, dreams, please let me dream,

Vivid opiate dreams of a life so clean.

But I can’t stop, I’m stuck, stuck to the clock,

Can’t go 8 hours without starting a cluck.

Rattle n roll, n a devil jacked soul,

But I got to suffer if I want outta this hole.

They say some have done it but I don’t believe it’s true,

The only ones who escaped, went out cold and blue.

So I got this light in my head so bright,

I want to turn it off n say hello to the night.

But it’s a 3-month hunt for sleep you see,

Go to bed at 1 n wake at 3.

So I got excuses n plans at least a mile high,

N if u try n force me, I’ll pretend I’ll try.

But the river of dark, it runs so deep,

When u find my body, it will be the only thing to keep.

So turn off the lights I like living in the dark,

It’s a life for a few and it’s no entertainment park.

© 2022 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid

An Ode to My Bed

This is an ode and poem to my very own double bed, 

A prison cell maybe, but it’s home n a place I never dread.

I do get tired from climbing steep stairs with broken legs,

N I get to the top n need to lie down to rest my creaking pegs.

I’m in my bedroom n through the windows I could see blue sky,

But the curtains R always closed tight n only my paranoia knows why.

Like hospital, I’ve spent days and weeks just lying on my bed,

Waiting for ops or recuperation time, I am the walking dead.

I can hear cars screech early doors, N planes N trains fly by.

N I can block the sound of little barking dogs out if I really try.

I have a nice NHS air mattress on my bed after my thigh was chopped,

It's nice and hard and keeps me waking to find my back broken N flopped.

With my TV on the wall, I watch YouTube N Netflix all day N night,

But the cops do love me so when I hear the doorbell ring I get a fright.

After the deadly ruck I had, blood stains the ceiling N now I have a camera doorbell,

So if blue do come a knocking I can always look at the screen for an early tell.

But I do love my bed it’s the space I have suffered, loved, and cried,

And one of these days it’ll probably be the place I finally rest to die.

© 2022 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid

Shopping

Running, running n alley shotting, 

Got a fiend on ur back it's one stop shopping.

Want some food I'll deliver to you,

Send me your postcode I'll be there in 2.

You want some dark, your bird looks smooth,

Have some free white I'll be her 2nd best friend soon.

I got money n rings n blowers n ching,

And an anal cavity that can stash an ounce of ting.

Another 6 o'clock knock n the front doors a flop,

But if they don't find suss I aint goin to their shop.

I got a webcam front door with an eagles eye,

A screen on the wall, that cops always ask why?

Coz tenancy is a loose term to me,

Get thrown from one I'll be a cuckoo in three.

Offer them some white n watch em suck that pipe,

Make em shot 4 me as I play Xbox all night.

Counting the notes as I hold my shank close,

Never know whose going 2 steam the pad n try 2 break my nose.

It's a life full of dealing death out cheap for bank,

N I tell myself I've been forced 2 this coz my life's been wank.

You can all get together to gloat, shout, drill n accuse,

But I'd like to see u try to do 925 after a life of social abuse.

So just read ur Daily Mail n keep giving ur kids pocket money,

Coz it's the rich white flush who always come shopping to me.

© 2022 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid

Joker Toker

He was just a young, 14 year old Joker Toker,

A one skin roller, full baccy heavy smoker.

Never see a man whitey, quicker than a roller-coaster,

Always coughing up, he's a real phlegm croaker.

Then tells me he's got a heavy rabbit, just on the green, 

I tell him, mate, u don't what a real habit means.

And it's cruel, but he's only on his first pair of jeans.

Wait 20 years, then feel what a real rabbit means.

Trainspotting style, robbing quality tops,

Never been in a town, that your not on shop-watch.

Running from your demons, as fast as those cops,

N u aint got any means, to make it all stop.

Help don't come easy, the Tories were wet,

A Psych team, getting paid for every patient they get.

Can u hop to that green cross when ur covered in sweat?

N take a tipple u don't want, just to show ur a good bet.

Nowhere to go, coz the 3 NHS hotels, all got shut down,

Look everywhere, it's been a country wide crack down.

You'll have to pay 12 K private, come out still in meltdown,

And the only rooms are money money, n all uptown.

But don't worry son, there's always a quick way out,

Just lie in that bath, take loads of sweets n don't shout.

Make sure your so your drunk so you won't get out,

And wave goodbye to the pain, as ur brain shuts out.

It's a shame, coz u could have been in a real dream team,

Making more notes than the BOE can print, full steam.

Driving company cars, private health care, being top cream,

But your ur still using coz that life's just a pipe dream.

Wet white crumbs on a pipe made of coke cans,

And holes from the pull, covered in ash from the back of ur hand.

Standing in alleys smoking Crack as fast as u can,

Robbing n going to jail, it;s a never ending non plan.

So just stop when u take, that first ever full pull,

Your probably on ur lunch break, toking at school.

Come back laughing N giggling, coz ur just a silly fool.

But if u just said no, u cud have skipped life's cesspool.

© 2021 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid

Flash Fiction - Three Fat Men

Three fat man came up the stairs. 

I got a bat wrapped around my head. 

Taekwondo kicked in, and I saved my life, but didn't bubble up so the police ruined my life. 

To be a grass, or to not be a grass, that was the question.

© 2021 - All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid

This was published in a Flash Fiction Book "50 Short Stories Of 2021" After Winning Their Flash Fiction Competition For one entry of the year.

2021

We R now all living in a police state,

U thought I was joking a year back big mistake.

BoJo lies n toos n frows about a covid passport,

It was never in doubt, a 100% thought.

We r now just data in a 4th gen database,

Just stick to the rules serf, know ur place.

Police break up gatherings, n follow dog walkers with drones,

Try n explain wats goin on, people respond wiv moans.

We must all do it, "to get back to normal" ppl say, 

Well what's normal now, wasnt just a yr away.

Your all just compliant n docile.

I'm fucking defiant n vocal.

I want 1984 to go back to being a book,

This wasn't the way Orwell thought our land wud look.

So stick heads out ass n read from the many cancelled,

N then maybe dem brains wouldn't be so scrambled. 

© 2021 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid

Mental Health Week....

Someone told me it was mental health week,

Apologises that I've not even made a tweet,

The health of my mind at the mo is pretty unstable n weak,

It breakable n shakable n I don't really want to speak.

Take ur pills, take ur pills, is all I can remember,

When I was depressed n psychotic for 20 odds years Jan 2 December.

Bi-polar, Schizo, told I'd be paranoid 4 forever,

No med reviews, so stopped takin those sweets, GPs ain't so clever.

Life on Olanzapine, Rispirodone n other Fluorine based meds,

Only make u fat, slows u down n fucks with ur head.

Prob why Hitler, Stalin, CIA used it 2 cold walk enemies dead,

Slept 23 a day, even behind the wheel, so lucky not 2 b dead.

So I take what I need to get me up every day,

But I could easily spend life under the duvet wishing it away.

Cops n stitches, n a 5 stretch for jus getting thru the day,

But I dont give a shit coz I'm in prison either way.

Dont ever sneak up on me n surprise me from behind,

Probably find out how quick 2 fingers make u blind.

I can't handle stress n my bodies only half kind,

Had more holes put in me than 3 whore houses combined.

Now I'm falling apart n COVIDS blocking my health,

Multiple ops cancelled coz DAVOS trebled their wealth.

So I hv to cop block, runnins daily, sneaky n stealth,

But every non prescribed med slowly corrodes my health.

So mentally or physically I'm wrecked beyond prime,

N wen I run out of p's n ill I'd happily do the time.

Courts local paper journos wud only see a standard crime,

Mitigating circumstances wouldn't even warrant a line.

Coz my mental health needs fixing but no1 seems to care,

N I stay stuck in this flat alone no1 2 talk to or share.

My mental health nds mending but shrinks wont get out there chair,

N that's why my minds goin 2 b the end of me, pls God hear this prayer. 

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