Floorbound

Alone and feeling naked I become a dirty sketch of the sorrow of silence No Hollywood fantasia No holy disease Nor artistic malaise It is urinating in front of strangers on planes, trains, streets and shops In front of the dogs and the cats and the crows and the pigeons All taste diminishes All colour fades Even coal turns white from your escapades Time... gone Sound... gone Memory... gone Movement... gone It is broken jaws and black eyes and the familiarity of the ambulance insides It is pills and tablets and tablets and pills And, "Have you!?" and "Will you!?" And, "I have" and "I will" It is telling your neighbour that you have fits And looking up at the face that waits on the future to hit Bending and twisting your words like a seizure Trying to say it that much easier Not a word of a lie Are chances I'll die 1000/1 that I'll be done Unexpected and sudden This is sorrow The only word that is correct here No anger, no depression Not rage, nor withheld aggression It is alone And naked And dirtied A let down to yourself you feel To your neighbour and stranger A smear on their history Defiling Earth with this story This story of sorrow As maybe, just maybe a 1000/1 of tomorrow