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Gluebags and Lost Love
The dehydrated working class poet. Not afraid to admit I'm wrong. Just hard being wrong for so long.
Wednesday, 1 July 2026
Born
I admit defeat,
Oops a daisy there goes me.
The words to a song I can't sing.
Time and a friend.
I'm hurting,
With scars thst won't help.
Whispers I tell people.
That they don't hear.
I'm hanging on.
But I've hung on too long.
Out stayed my welcome.
No one replies anymore.
Just watches the end.
Breaking down in real time,
Looking a friend.
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About Me
Crappo the Clown
East Belfast, United Kingdom
I like dancein on tables and gettin drunk, drunk enought to fall and stumble, to know im lost and feel its ok to mumble. time takes to long so im tryin to express how i feel. but the question is always there is any of this real?
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