The motorways of madness,
that run throughout my shell,
have had some drugs along them,
and I don¹t feel very well.
Cul - de - sacs of memories
that I thought long were dead,
have now been re - diverted,
straight into my head.
Two years ago that happened ......
it seems like yesterday,
I¹m quite enjoying this now,
in a funny sort of way.
Why George ....Hello .....long time no see,
Really November ¹73,
Well, who¹d of thought that, still, must fly,
catch you again George, when I¹m high !!! -
It¹s really not bad this powdered stuff,
now that I¹m over the rough,
Oh, high ..ahhh .......I know that face
oh yes, of course, you¹re my dead Aunt Grace ! ! ! !
Mind you, your memory never dies,
funny, I could have sworn you had blue eyes,
still, I don¹t get here very much,
Bye now Grace, keep in touch.
Oh I¹m have such wonderful times,
sniffing, talking, writing rhymes,
can¹t wait to see who else I¹ll find,
down the back-streets of my mind ......
Reason for writing:
My parents had both died and I had just about enough of life
as I could wish. I tried to kill myself with
"certain substances" but lived through the expereience and
this is what I wrote during the ordeal !
Birth sign: Not entered
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View more poems by Paul Bearer (Seymour) - Cancer.