Play my choon next.

 The meds are near out,

Fegs down to who is an actual smoker

And can prove it,

Beers maybe enough to dial a drink come out.

Dead bodies,

And a table littered to the point

Of you should get a taxi and get out.

But you never let the finer details get in the way.

You are here to prove a point

And won't let anyone get in the way.

It's nit me it's you

 Rack another line

We still have time.

As time itself doesn't exist.

It's just made up.

A trap.

Like the paper and coins,

The one way street.

The poor siding with the billionaire,

In hope their lottery ticket that them there.

But it won't.

And Monday will still be the same.

Hating each other,

Cause the rich man says.

But what about the immigrants?

The Indian grooming gangs?

Well what about is it 80%

Of pedos is the white man?

But what about housing for the veterans?

There aren't many veterans left.

But still sure what about our own?

It's funny how our own mean anything,

After all these years.

Cut backs and attack.

Have you watched the news?

Most politicians come from a financially stable background.

Not caring the price of milk.

Whole 80% of homeless are from care homes.

No one to help when it gets too much.

I over spent at Christmas but can get a lend off my mum.

One missed payment,

4 days off, 

statuary sick pay doesn't cover what's owed.

Heat or eat when it's cold?

Counting pennies,

Embarrassed,

But you need to cover what you owe.

Your local pm doesn't speak your language.

Doesn't know how bad the damp is hard to manage.

Doesn't know how you survive by working two jobs,

Doesnt know how

Enough so tired,

You can't sleep.

Your brain wide awake.

And we all wish for a happy ending.

But maybe we need to stop pretending.

We are all one line away from no hope.

Crappo the clown.

 Cider and sleeping pills.

Just incase I can sleep tonight. 

It's been a fight. 

No tunnel with a light. 

No end to the sad, bad and shit times.

Lost souls, 

Take my hand, 

I can save you from the current. 

But I'm not strong enough. 

Our fingers can't hold on, 

As i lose everything I love. 

My memories. 

My close that died with out a goodbye.

As I chased my high.

Messages wrote with one eye. 

Words are no use. 

No excuse. 

I'm just trying. 

But is there any use? 

The only thing that will make me feel like I would be good to be able to sleep as well

 Numbing the pain

Drugs, alcohol and mostly cocaine. 

Dealers know me by name. 

Big dog you're the best customer 

Your craic is mighty. 

But truth is inside I'm dying. 

The cocaine use to be for hiding. 

But the mask falls, 

One line and a tear falls. 

Staring at empty rooms and pictureless walls

Hunting my own house. 

Hunted by old ghosts. 

The toss and turn as the drink wears off. 

The bed is not comfortable. 

Blood stains and tear drops on the pillow. 

The doctor can't prescribe an antidote. 

I'm lost, but not quite given up. 

But how long can cocaine keep you up? 

Sunday funday

 Born slipping.

Wasn't long before I was introduced

To the dark and long, 

Unfortunately weekends don't seem 

To last too long. 

Sunday, 

The smell of regret. 

Booze, feg smoke, 

Rave and sweat.

20 missed calls, 

11 texts. 

You're ma is raging, 

Your Sunday dinner's getting cold

And the gravy's been thrown out, 

As a sign of the parental upset.

Pale faced, 

Mouth dry. 

Unsure if to give in and admit all. 

Or give the dinner a try. 

Manage your account.

 Save my number,

Save my number.

Mate I can't even save myself.

The antidepressants

don't seem to be helping my mental health.

I can't even speak up for myself.

The doctor says a walk and fresh air

But I think there is more then that.

As I lay unable to sleep or get any rest.

My minds a mess.

My everything is stress.

The pills prescribed don't touch the sides.

I know there is so much more

Then feeling less.

Then the tight feeling in my chest.

Happy days can't be far away.

Because I need to rest.

Late nights steal my best.

And I can't fight the feeling of doom.

Trying to get out of bed,

But there is no reason to.

You made your bed,

Now you lay in it.

Sure it's near 3 you'll get up soon.

Why hate ourselves?

 The fine line between

Between being a cunt and insanity.

Sure aren't we all family.

Tbh, it's going to take the man in me.

To say no.

To let those old feelings go.

You have to forgive and let go.

Or let those old things sink your soul.

Like being chained to a rock.

You can't float with a broken heart.

You can't love if you don't release

The feelings thst won't give you peace.

The lines don't help,

The lack of sleep increases

The unhappiness and effects your mental health.

No peace or joy can be found,

When you can no longer appreciate the small

Things in life.

The clouds in the sky,

Birds singing in trees,

Smiling dogs and singing bees.

Media makes us hate ourselves,

But you are beautiful,

You just need to see that.