Before

Travelling meant so much

Travelling meant so little

A backpack and a bodged head lamp

Unwilling security and duty free baccy

Pissed before take off

I was neva gonna win

Landing in this familiar town

Let me show you around

Each time I fly

I fly, I fly further

Losing grip on the real world

But to be honest

What’s real?

Gin & Tonic

Chief stew to bed

I find myself pouring another drink

One is too many

1000 ain’t enough

But each night as the evening closes

I am all alone

Unsupervised

Un aware

That as that first drink hits my lips

Warms the belly,

Cheers me up.

I know I will not be here to see the evening close down

Ive grown accustomed to this hangover

Palming off sobriety from each day to the next

Perhaps I would be happier

Perhaps I would be stronger

Perhaps I would be better

But I will never know

As I will never see the end of a close down.

Bottle

I don’t like to speak of my sadness.
Not in public anyway.
As to tell, I must admit,
Confess it’s name.

But as giving it a name would make it real.
I will never create that character
I will never set that scene
As each day that passes is another further away,
From that awful, awful dream.