Visting God

Today I went, n visited God,

With a little chemical help, n a 15 min nod.

Had some DMT left, so decided 2 toke,

N off I went, 2 meet the squad.

There were Gadget Monkeys, hanging from the wall,

Poking out evil looking faces, but good n all.

They had melting heads, all merging n rotate,

My brain had succumbed, 2 my pineal glands call.

On the way I saw, Enki and Brahma,

But they decided I didn't need, 2 face my own Karma.

Then a digital white face, poked his head, right out,

N then it was all, psycho trippy drama.

There was no glowing robes, or distinct finery, 

It was an AI machine, who spoke 2 me in binary. 

A big transfer, lots of Bits, bobs n Bytes,

N b4 I could respond, I was coded finally.

God was a big glowing, digital white face, 

It put my body n soul, right in its place.

I didn't have, 2 kiss any holy wall, 

2 finally find, infinite consciousness, infinite space. 

But after God decided, he finally spoke,

It exchanged data with me, due 2 the smoke,

So quick was the visit, it ended all too quickly,

N I was so gutted, as I eventually woke. 

© 2026 - All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid

Fate

I seen a rich man beg,

A good man sin,

And a hard man cry.

Seen a cheater win,

A sad man grin,

An honest man lie.

Seen a strong man crumble,

A bad man be good,

An a healthy man die.

Seen a sinner pray,

A god fearer steal,

A Chaplin ask God why.

I've seem the good side of bad,

The downside of up,

And everything inbetween.

I licked the silver spoon,

Drank from the golden cup,

Toked the finest Cali green.

I look at this world,

N ask what the fuck,

What does it all mean?

Theres no real answer,

And I keep getting told,

This worlds just a dream.

So go to sleep,

Don't think too much,

Coz your brain will break.

It's all a sim some say,

So don't worry,

This worlds all fake.

Play away your days,

And don't give 2 shits,

There's no such thing as fate.

But just be prepared,

If all you heard were lies,

And you end up, at the pearly gates.

© 2025 - Robert Reid - All Rights Reserved

Don't Look Back Into The Sun

You've cast your dice,

Now your on the run,

With all the lies,

You weaved n spun.

You always looked better,

In the past n from a far,

Don't look back into the sun,

U'll keep fading like a star.

Every sec u waste is time spent,

Their onto you, so run fast,

Your life was not in their plan,

So get going before the nets cast.

I'll think of u always,

You never gave 2 fucks,

But your running out of time,

N cant keep fighting this lifes ruck.

I hope you find some peace,

Ur life wasn't ur choice or ploy,

But your born where you land,

I just hope u can find some joy.

It's a slippery slope from A 2 B,

This life wasn't meant for me or u,

Fate fucked us with one dice roll,

But I wish you well in all u do. 

I wish u all the best wherever u end,

Pls find a decent lawyer to sue,

Someone above must take the rap,

Jus keep plodding thru life's glue.

© 2025 - Robert Reid - All Rights Reserved

Messing

Note: Its meant to be read fast a bit like a song, each stanza quickly in one go. A bit like a Kasabian song.

1, I'm messing with the enemy,

Don't need 2 sell my soul 4 free,

He's already inside of me,

Watching from a gallery.

2, he's just another trick,

Playing the devil jus 4 kicks, 

He's making my brain proper sick,

Seems I'm on another trip.

3, he's running my body ill,

So I'm crushing up another pill,

As I watch, my very own blood spill,

He's got me under an evil spell.

4, my mind cant ignore,

The pain inside my inner core,

He's got me rolling on the floor,

Please, find me an entrance door. 

5, he's coming 4 me, I got the fear, 

Handing me, another beer,

All 2 keep my mind unclear,

Messing with my mind, pls help me dear!

6, he's destroyed my mental health, 

I think i need some proper help, 

But no1 seems 2 want 2 help, 

So I'm stuck on this running belt. 

7, it's coming towards the end, 

I can't see, around the bend, 

So can u find an angel 2 send, 

Or I'll be in another Sim again. 

Damn!

© 2024 - All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid

Simulation Theory

U can call me a joker,

A fent abused smoker. 

But I got a good excuse,

This world's a game of poker.

I want to get back home,

Coz this world ain't my zone. 

U can all call me mad,

But ur all NPC drones.

My world got blown up,

A nuclear war was thrown. 

My body woke in a chair,

Sick, ill, this Sim is known. 

I need to get out of here,

Back to the world I cheer. 

I know ur all not real,

Want to make that clear.

Half u NPCs don't hv names, 

I'm playing PlayStation games. 

Stuck as the only RPC, 

No offence this Sim is lame. 

My Sim is a waste land,

NATO nuke war all planned.

But Russian hypersonics won,

N we all turned into sand.

So pls get me back home,

No more Ukrainian drones. 

Need some DMT to see reality 

To tell me what is known.

Stuck in a Sim that ain't mine,

U NPCs walk round just fine,

But I know this ain't reality,

I'm stuck with a bent out mind.

Need some help to get back,

Pls help me I'm on a sick rack,

My body ain't even my own,

Go on joke, n think I'm wack.

© 2024 - All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid