I’m calling out for help
Friends, family
Begging almost
I don’t know how to get through
I feel it coming
Washing up
Tears trickle down my cheeks
Voice starts to go
End my call
I can understand
Bitter taste
Need to carry on
Then
It floods
Wailing like a child scorned
The only friend I have
That consoles me
The hypocrite
Is man’s best friend
That this bastard cannot keep
I’m just going to give her away
Because she’s too much….
.
In my time of need
She is there
I cry
I cry
I cry
Hysterically
Breakdown finally hits
Will I go on?
Have I got a choice?
Things look bad
They always do
Going through bad times?
Have a good cry
.
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.
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Phil lister 13/01/18
listerspoetry@gmail.com
