poetic scribble by Bob Axell 2008


I have a hole
Deep in my soul
And noones home
I've lost control

I'm sinking under
I'm going deep
I cry all day
I rage and weep

The beer I sweep
The gin I drink
I do not like
The thoughts I think

And down I go
And down I sink
And whisky flows
Through the room

Will I be there?
At the bottom?
And go boom?
Like a box of lemon juice flowing through the world in which I loath so cruel?