Sit Down

Sit right down if ur my freind,

Not got 2 many left of mine.

We may never see out the end,

But lets jus enjoy this time.

What's been going on with u?

Forever jus seems just like a min.

Not seen u 4 ages got no clue.

Have u managed to get off the pin?

Have you met a bird u like?

Or are u still running 4 ching?

U got wheels or a stolen bike?

Made any money or golden bling?

There's been 2 much crime,

We may as well enjoy whats left.

Life has no reason or rhyme,

We just gotta do wats in R best.

R lives hv jus been dodging cops,

We never got 2 stay at the Ritz.

There's no point joining dots,

It just seems like one long blitz.

There's a dark cloud coming down,

No point 2 hide it will hit us.

Try to turn that frown upside down,

That cloud will finally kill us.

All R lifes pain will go away,

Smile and jus take whats coming.

It's been a long road with no pay.

Jus think of that happy numbing.

© 2025 - Robert Reid - All Rights Reserved

Happy New Year Skrew 2023

It's another Happy New Year Skrew 2 all u few,

N I hope MSRA n Cancer don't get into u lot 2.

The NHS seemingly has more important things to do,

Even though my legs r starting 2 turn green n blue.

I honestly think that the NHS is trying 2 kill me,

Even though I've tried myself more times than 1,2,3.

Seems whisky, morphine n pills don't even get 2 me,

Just wake up hours later needing a desperate pee.

I go 2 every hospital appointment, N always arrive on time,

N 2 b compliant I even force a chin rug on my grime.

Though I might black out halfway down the waiting line,

I still try my best when I'm cold n nose dripping green slime.

Honestly, I got doctors telling me to do my own surgery,

When I ask them why u don't bother trying to really help me.

Guess what the Surgeon said "it's, not illegal to see",

Myself get a blade n start hacking off lumps of cancerous meat.

So thank u NHS for wasting all that inpatient bed time,

I've stayed in the hospital 4 my pegs at least 4 times.

But all they cared about was some mysterious blood leak, deep inside,

N of course it was an invisible one they could never find.

So now I'm back on the waiting list for 20 23,

It does take the piss, N I doubt any1 really cares bout me.

I can't handle the pain no more, so I often scream n plea, 

But there aint enuff strong meds in all my drawers 2 set me free.

So I may not be around it seems, for much more time,

N it seems God's given the NHS duty, 2 punish me, 4 all my crimes.

So although this liddle ditty, is only a little Skrew, joke n rhyme,

It could just be one of the few last poems, that I will ever sign. 

© 2023 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid

I'm Not Going Out Like That.....

To be honest I've been thinking a lot about suicide,

I don't want to die alone, not knowing where I am, no shame to hide.

Pants down grown man, being washed like a kid who cries,

Minds all turned to mush, your own memories a tall lie.

So I've decided I'm not going out like that,

The only decision is to find a way to sucker that bat.

Pills n Whisky my old man says is his only choice of going splat,

A single malt mixed with sleepers n then a fall into a whisky vat.

For me I need more, n I dunno what kind of painless way,

Don't need 2 be spending a ton on pills n powder 2 not only go one way.

I need so much dark, XANS n booze, I'll have to start saving today,

A piggy bank stash of cash all wrapped up, set for my final day.

It may seem to you like I'm taking the coward's way out,

When you've been stuck with senile men, you wouldn't have any doubt.

I ain't going out like that, an old grown man baby without any clout,

Think it's braver to use a shooter, N blow my own mushed brains straight out.

That day will certainly come but I have no idea of the time n date n when,

I just hope I don't go senile first, N 4get to pull that trigger again.

Coz yesterday was supposed 2 be my last on earth, with a failing brain,

I forgot 2 write a post-it note 2 tell me 2 flush my life down the drain again!

© 2022 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid

A Pointless Task

I put those leads to my nips from the battery in the car,

Hoped for the best but just ended up looking at stars.

So I drank 250ml of that lovely oral morph,

Did squat all so I wanna be squashed down to a dwarf.

A jump from Ben Nevis 2 the floor but it’s up Scotland,

N I can’t afford the petrol for my body to land.

Once I tried a blade just to try on my wrist,

But I got no blood inside me so it was a worthless risk.

I took a box of blues and then a bottle of zans,

Woke in an airbag halfway through a wall in a stolen van.

I’m running of ideas to try and top myself,

My body just doesn’t wanna seem to kill itself.

So I’m depressed n mad n sad n can hardly move,

But my bodies got something in it that won’t let me lose.

© 2022 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid

Deaths Rattle

I got cold sweats, in full sets, but feel too hot to feel wet,

These duff pegs, are half dead, but they still keep me rolling around in bed.

My pain is immense, but every doctor’s 2 cents, seems too dense,

So I’ve got to decide, no offence, which way to fall off, this spiked fence.

I have dead teary eyes, coz I know there’ll be no happy goodbyes,

That dark fear I feel inside, was only meant for the wise.

Coz my bodies a true mess, n I've got a head bulging full of stress,

As an old teacher, once said in jest, I can only attempt, to do my worst best.

Coz I’m really at rock bottom, and every future’s been truly forgotten,

To be an EastEnders' Nick Cotton, my brains had to get half rotten.

It’s a death spiral snake’s hiss, n a chicken bone cracked wish,

A hopeful one-way ticket 2 everlasting bliss, I'll def not risk a goodbye kiss.

So many pills are taken full hand, so I wobble n slobber, here as I stand,

I definitely don’t feel like a man, coz death rattles always harder than planned.

Whisky washed back, full gack n I got more scalpels, full pack,

I plunge demon juice into my thigh's crack, n within a minute my head lies flat back.

So I slit my wrist’s cord, with a scalpel like a sword, n say a prayer 2 any listening Lord,

For all I have aboard, by law, is a single coin on my tongue to pass Styx's river, by Greek accord.

Coz this bed is my sled, and deaths rider Charon is led, pls driver take me down, full brown bread,

My eyes swirl in my head, rolling n red, n I look forward to the afterlife, pray kind dead. 

But like every time, the coin’s not payment enuff, n the riverman pulls up my body, full bluff,

I’m yanked up to my bed, from Styx’s rivers guff, n wake up panting, feeling real head ruff.

For is this my life’s long fate, to never get past, or pay the toll, to enter the underworld’s last gate,

I’m full 365, dulling my soul’s ache, I cry n quake, as sit here now, smoking "bake n shake".

For if I cannot end my time, on life's painful line, I must punish u all, with tales of my life’s crime,

So let hell’s bells, chingy, chime chime, as I once again, deliver this forlorn rhyme.

And I just hope, proper no joke, that one day, I’ll finally choke n fully croak, 

I hope 2 B found lying on my bed, blood soaked but with not a riverman's coin, stuck in my throat.

© 2022 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid

This Is A Shit Show....

Do you believe the countries gone insane?

Fruit drink bugs gonna eat your brain,

Please someone come feel my pain,

Coz I'm alone, stone broke and afraid.

So many unnecessary people dying,

And big men are heart broke, dropped crying.

Dickhead selfish off panic buying,

An all police want to do is fuckin cite me.

Because my health is a fucking shit show,

On more meds than ten Grannies I know.

Blood eeks from the leaks, legs on show,

An bubbles pop from the snot on nose blows.

It's a sweat tank, drip drop, sorry state to be,

And Gandalf's beards half grown face on me.

Grey whiskers and no razors I can see,

Sofa dove already, one two twenty pee.

All tin cans, been scanned, and bin bagged,

Rotten fruit but it's the best meal I've had.

Got no idea if I'll ever see my Mum and Dad,

When I go out, scarf wrapped face, tight clad.

Coz this Town is a fucking shit show,

And my mental health is nagging bad, full blown.

My inner brains having a decent chat show,

And I'm socially isolated, nowhere to go.

Coz I can't even make some decent Ps,

Nags aint running, bookies closed on high street.

I need some soft paper to wipe my underneath,

But got no petrol to fly off to the heath.

Coz it seems like this worlds in martial law,

It's a sign many have seen years before.

I'd be surprised if they relaxed all new laws,

Get used to sweating hot all summer indoor.

I swear I got bugs sucking thoughts from my brain,

Not a days passed that I've been half sane.

Only got a Pot Noodle and half a can of K,

And not a single neighbours asked if I'm okay.

Coz this countries a fucking shit show,

BoJo clown, Tory fucking road show.

Every booked ops gonna be a no show,

And I'd risk ten new fines to make some quick dough.

So this rope here is going to stay,

You never know I might need to use it one day.

I let it swing back n forth an give it a play,

Then kick the chair, doped choked, merry on my way.

© 2020 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid