Floating By

This isn’t me,
This is not what
I chose to pursue.

I won’t succumb,
With another choice,
I know what I’d choose.

Motivation varies,
But the outcome
has never scared me.

I don’t live to earn
Rather, I earn the right
through work.

I pretend
Wake up
under this pretence
This means the end
But we all dream of an end to this mess.

It’s a sad reality
And the truth is,
I might never quit.

Trapped.
Scraping a living,
pretending to live.

Chasing the money
Pretending,
It’s not what motivates me.

I’m living the life
Like most of us,
just floating by

I’m living the lie
Like most of us,
just floating by

We lie
and let life just float on by..
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Not The Right Night To Try

I gave up whisky, women, and sinning

Gave up meat, turned completely vegan

I finally let go of nicotine’s hold

And cooked dinner for myself at home

Directed all my energy into working hard

And working out, decided to put partying last

Lived for Monday mornings, not Friday nights

The time was right to change my life

Get my January 1st on, 10am on Saturday

Then it’s wet and wild, 10pm every Saturday

Then it’s back to whisky, women, and sinning

Burger king, smoking, and full speed living

Live fast, die young, that’s what we live for

This is my life, you can give up yours

But I’ve tried it all before, to no applause

And for the entire 3 hours, I was bored

I thought I need to change my life

But tonight’s, not the right night to try

Broken

They want to hear a broken a heart
A distant past
A sense of humour in a mirthless laugh

They want the pain and regret
The phlegm from my chest
Words spun from whisky and cigarettes

They want bitterness and sin
A guilty hand on her innocence
And a twisted love story to witness

They don’t want poverty
Equality
Or a fight against a corporate monopoly

They want to cry
But they don’t want to fight
They want to read
And hang on the words I write

They don’t want dying children
Shallow graves and ill treatment
If you speak out and they’ll call it treason

They want peace and love

They need to hear it, eat it up

Believe and achieve in a perverted lust

But they don’t want to know it doesn’t exist.

Walls

It’s the art of attraction
Seduction, hiding our faults
Behind heavily self-built walls.

It’s the first of many kisses
Memories found in words of joy
And two become one at the groin

It’s the first small argument
Over upturned toilet seats
Household chores and bed sheets

It’s a duel to the death
Between two rival factions
Firing blanks in the form of inaction

It’s the last straw, slammed doors
bitter and spite, whisky and ice
and the winner’s the one holding the knife

It’s the art of attraction,
Seduction, hiding our faults
Behind heavily self-built walls.