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A "Skrewball poem" , or in short "a Skrew" , is a poem with short lines and multiple rhyming or repeated words, often wi...

Showing posts with label paranoid. Show all posts
Showing posts with label paranoid. Show all posts

Sunday, 1 December 2024

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

Sunday, 12 February 2023

The Deepest Scratch

A scratch or two on your back,

You take a few more if you can.

She's an open red raw book,

And we always go it full hand.


Hands on a hotel window dare,

As I stand from her behind.

She likes the night-time stares,

With a constant cold slight remind.


I don't know if I trust her,

Lies and deciet rivers run deep.

I still penetrate on offer,

But paranoid rumors I keep.


Til I catch out a slight lie,

One I can't keep inside.

It hurts like a knife,

A deep cut from the side.


So I act like the Alpha Male,

Blade slipped in my back pocket.

I knock on the flat front door,

Then rampage like a sideways rocket.


There's too much blood on the floor,

And an ex best friend lying in the red.

Suddenly I don't blame him no-more,

She's deliberately set me up in bed.


Those red scratches run deep,

The ones you can never hide.

I look in the 6 by 4 cell mirror,

Still wishing for one more ride.


© 2023 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid