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

The Contract

Like Robert J I sold my soul, 

It wasn't 4 fame but 2 cut a hole. 

It wasnt at the crossroad, 

And no horned Satan glowed. 

Just a plain man in a suit, 

But that bloke sure chat cute.

That slick speaking devil n me, 

Signed a contract we agreed. 

I jus wanted 2 protect my death. 

So I sold an ounce of my flesh.

Definitely no hell for me, 

So there was no nd 2 plea. 

For wen I croak not to go to hell, 

He had me under some spell. 

There was no blood, no pain,

And yet no one can explain. 

Ambulance men confused, 

Dox N nurses all bemused.

All the old Chaplens here, 

Have been bent on my ear. 

Saying he's a evil trickster, 

There's no kind of quick fixer. 

Must b a psychotic break, 

Or maybe a schizo mistake. 

But why won't u believe, 

If u finally received.

A visit from ur deity, 

Don't u believe wat u see? 

A visit from the Devil or God, 

R u trippin wat do u find odd? 

Jus hallucinating ur belief, 

Or ur religiosity is jus disbelief. 

So don't doubt my sanity, 

Wen over half the planet agrees. 

That those opposites exist, 

Maybe my contract still exists?

© 2024 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid

Hotel Frimley Park

(To the tune of Hotel California)

Welcome to the Hotel Frimley Park,

Such a lovely place, 

Such a happy face. 

Hardly any room at the Hotel Frimley Park. 

Any time of year, 

You won't find beds here. 

So welcome to the hotel Frimley Park, 

We got lovely staff, 

N an expensive car park.

Such a lovely place,

Smiling happy face.

So welcome to ward F6, 

we're all bed bound,

Lights off at 10, 

don't dare make a sound.

Pls don't piss yourself, 

Or dare shit yourself. 

Nurses just love changing wet smelly bed sheets, 

It's joy for them, they tuck em in prison neat. 

Rolling to the left bar as they yank it out, hard feel the pain, 

Then a roll to the right, and the same shit repeats again. 

Don't get monged out n cause rampages over missing food, 

The nurses will shout about, but they dosed u good.

If you rampage 2 much Security might get called, 

But ur NHS high, so they just get eye balled. 

But don't ever josh n joke with ur bay mates, 

Or flip right out n smash ur dinner plates. 

They will dose u up,

just to shut you up.

Don't even think about leaving Hotel Frimley Park,

You won't get very far, 

Might even break your leg,

in our very own car park. 

I used to love coming to hotel Frimley Park, nearly every year,

3 hot meals a day, power shower n no bed bound tears.

This is a mad n sad, summer holiday for me, 

Roasting outside, our bay all feels the heat. 

So welcome to Hotel Frimley Park,

HMP prison lights off early, so we tap phones in the dark.

I got a mobile, money and a tablet,

Royal Ascots on, so they feed my habit.

My left leg is still leaking everywhere, brown shit,

Not that the nurses can ID, the crumbly bitz.

I got a new big old hole from unknown shit in my left calf, 

Not that I can get anything done, not with these numpty staff. 

So welcome to the majesty's HMP Frimley Park.

We have NAZI nurses, 

that will leave u wet in the dark.

Just don't piss in the bed,

You'll be shipped off 2 another ward instead. 

I think I've been around the block in Hotel Frimley Park. 

Too many wards I've seen, 2 much madness in the dark.  

Life throws u lemons, and u have to make do, 

Just remember those Nepalese names, in case u need to sue. 

They all babble together at the desk in Smurf, 

So I never worry, or give a shit if I curse. 

I swear 4 verbs, adjectives and even nouns, 

N if u don't like the sound of it, go swivel u pussy clouns. 

Apparently Frimley HMP says I'm mentally ill,

I'm paranoid schizo, psychotic n probably ready 2 kill.

So they dose me up in the day to try n keep me quiet,

Turning half my brain off, then complaing about a chocolate éclair riot.

All I want 2 do is itch my broken cast covered leg, 

Still I know they r going to turf me out, with 2 fucked pegs. 

So welcome to Hotel Frimley Park, 

It's a deadly place, n will leave it's mark. 

We have unhappy staff, 

U will get scolded 4 having a laugh. 

It's my summer holiday, 

N I've had too many stayz.

I just etch the wall and count up the days. 

One day I might get out of this ward n Hotel Frimley Park. 

I'll be climbing scaffolding, one leg in the dark.

N if you ever find a broken body, with 2 duff legs,

Just think of me on discharge day only to break my "good" leg.

©2023 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid

Give Me My Meds!

Wheres the coffee lady?

I'm Choca moca crazy.

Drink at least 10 a day,

N then I piss it all away.

On the headphones, 

Locked in a music zone.

Coz Golden Brown,

Used 2 lay me down.

N Sweet Child of Mine,

Gave the devil a fine. 

But I just want 2 bet,

But NHS WiFi won't let. 

Ran out of mobile data,

Opera VPN hater.

Hanging out of windows,

Get a 4G signal if close.

I still just wanna bet,

Am I a gambling addict yet? 

Weekend racing sun, 

Only betting is good fun. 

Wattsapp calls,

A patient falls.

I can b happy like herb,

Still use fuck as a verb.

Medical notes on me, 

Paranoid schizo I'll be. 

I ask pls get my clonazepam, 

Or I'll b talking 2 an invisible man. 

The pregabs n benzos, 

Keep me calm n mellow. 

But don't give em 2 me, 

We'll see how psychotic I can B. 

Don't want 2 hurt no one, 

But I can kick off n run. 

Security r just in my way, 

Get beaten but they'll pay. 

Broken spoon spike chiv, 

Not a nice gift to give. 

Don't tell me u ain't got my meds, 

Coz u won't put me 2 bed. 

NHS strapped cash, 

Always hv my own stash. 

Can't trust em 2 hv my pills,

Wud just screw wiv my will. 

So it's NHS v Rob Reid, 

N u expect me 2 not to feed. 

Sweets, gabs n Morphine, 

Keeps Rob nice n clean. 

Call me an NHS junky,

At least I'm not robbing ur Granny. 

Call me a hypocrite, 

See damage of constant hits.

Now I'm ending this Skrew,

N hope u learned something new.

© 2023 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid

Sounds...

I'm just a listener a passenger to Nirvana,

As my feet walk halls on souls made in China. 

Nevermind the specifics just entertain us, 

My Verve always has a "Lucky Man" ready 2 blame us.

There's always been something in the way,

N I hope Lucifer guesses the nature of his game.

It's a Babyshambles of a Shotters Nation, 

Pale white girls queuing outside disused power stations. 

So just come as you are whether a friend or an enemy,

I swear I don't have a gun just sat ready under my knee.

Coz I'm just an outcast and n anarchist,

I've never been just like the other kids.

So try 2 cut my legs off like King Kunta,

Just don't say I share bars like a prisoned punta.

N Fuck Forever if you don't mind,

Its all one n the same n my eyes R not blind.

My ears are bleeding sound like the creep I am,

A man in a can, imprisoned roasting like ham.

But I'm so happy coz today I've finally found my friends,

They're in my head so I'm on a path 2 a lithium end. 

I just playback the sounds that always deliver me,

A quiet sense of meaning in a world that will never be.

A place I can truly share my feelings,

So I'm just a sucker 4 drips of sound 2 give me some meaning. 

© 2022 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid, Nirvana, Babyshambles, Verve and others..

Mr Mentalist

Mr Mentalist please, can u let me get out of my bed,

Mr Depression has called and I want 2 go back 2 the dreams that I had.

He always calls when I fail, and makes me wish I was dead.

Please Mr Mentalist please, can you let me rest my own head.

But now I've dragged myself up I'm freaky deaking right out,

Old friend Mr Anxiety has visited n given me a hard sharp clout.

Please Mr Mentalist can u give me some pills to calm my self-doubt,

I can't find my phone or keys and I'm flipping right out.

I go from zero to a hundred in a flick of an eye,

People think I'm crazy mazy when they hear me swear n cry.

All I wanted to do was get my laptop 2 work n comply,

But now I'm a swearing freak and people look at me n sigh.

Oh please Mr Mentalist can you sort out my paranoid feelings,

I keep hearing ppl on mute just thinking I'm not worth dealing.

All I want is someone to come n give me some proper mental healing,

But I don't trust nobody to come in here n walk out without stealing.

I know the old rhyme, that Paranoia will destroy ya,

But I hear silent ppl on my screen bitching and laughing "ha ha".

I got that feeling that all the ppl r just looking at me jotting all my flaws,

I can't relax at all, n my paranoid shoulder monkey is ripping, bear claw.

So please Mr Mentalist, can you do me a massive favour,

I got the schizo twitcho ithcos, with no sign of a saviour.

Leaves r raining down with flashing lights n my mind is all misbehaviour,

I'm scared I'll do something crazy n stupid, and I need a lifesaver.

All the shrinks say I'm just screwed up and they can't even help,

I'm ashamed to be ashamed, coz I just wanna it all dealt.

I get letter after letter saying I need to do my own self-help,

If I could sort my own crazy out, I would have if I could have, but it's pure agony to self.

So please Mr Mentalist can you make people understand me,

That I ain't angry on purpose and I just want people to like me.

It's seeming more n more like this world don't have a place for me,

And for anyone to relate it's 2 late, I'm just a thorn on a big mad tree.

© 2022 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid

This is also published on the Mary Francis Trust Website for their Mental Health, Time To Talk Day > https://www.maryfrancestrust.org.uk/poem-mr-mentalist/

POEM: "MR MENTALIST"
To support #TimeToTalkDay our Creative Writing Group led by Michele has come up with a series of wonderful and heartfelt pieces discussing mental health stigma.
This fifth piece is a poem called “Mr Mentalist” written by Robert.https://t.co/Vnww2X0Uk5 pic.twitter.com/nmolTPsXGb

— Mary Frances Trust (@MaryFrancesTrst) February 3, 2022

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