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One September morn, Barry is born, one day a little man that society will chastises every day, poisoned with dour memories of a life passing, staggers habitually along life’s broad way, yet still, he believes an ardent player of this earthly cast.

the mould human kind
every one naked the same
circumstance fate plays

One September morn Larry is born not a volunteer, into this place, no developing embryo given a democratic choice, but oh the joy the accolades, freedom of youth rampart significant, carte blanche credit card.

silver spoon protrudes
freewheeling society
so much to tire of

An unknown purpose aided each step, for Barry with holdall and worldly baggage around his neck, whilst trying to escape societies goals and social orders, life’s hypocrisy filed against this frail oppressed old man, living with a menial existence inside prejudiced borders.

daunting are the nights
beneath a blanket of fog
soul destroying dawns

Here Larry the mellow fellow who toast, boast every night drunk with his host, cocaine his specialty, whilst trying to escape societies goals and social orders, now his empire has closed the high life exposed a hobo a bench a lamppost his only light.

Barry and Larry
mix for the first time at the...
crematorium.


Entered 2022 Poetry marathon Mile 20
sponsor Mark Toney  12/11/2022
written 2021

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