very bloody hard to pen a happy poem. raise yourself up into the uplifted zone.
blocking out moans and groans reminisce happy times before the jones.
before the mind decides to wander and wonder having a a mind of its own.
energies escalating positive energy vacating being sucked from the station.
another train stuck at the junction. fickle glimmer of inspiration, sit looking at an ocean.
Thomas Cook billboard. beautiful in till the back drop. concrete grey blocks.
weekends up top. time to buck the fuck up. but the timer fly's non-stop.
monday back at the sweat shop. MAN Time to buck the fuck up.
Now. stand up proud fart and hold no bars.
WHO GIVES A SHIT... LOL
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