Some Days

As proof that blogging is really all about vanity, I offer a little poem that sums me up in just 20 lines of doggerel.

Some Days

Some days, I just need
To sand the rougher edges of my mood
To smooth the spiky bits of life
In ways too often misconstrued.

Some days, I need a drink
To slow me down, or pick me up -
To make me comatose perhaps -
I don't do fractions - there's the rub.

Some days, I like to smoke,
A toke or three to take the pain away -
To induce dreaminess and peace
And cool the raging passions of the day.

Some days, I like to fight,
Creating confrontations on a whim -
To express my frustrations?
Yes, but also to get back at Him.

Some days, I vegetate,
To... but there is no reason there.
No voluntary action can be made
No sense, no will, no God, nowhere.


I think I might give it to my psychiatrist at our next meeting - it's easier than trying to explain to someone just out of their teens why a middle aged man is such a fuck-up as I am.