New Year’s Slobber
The coldness of old piss stain from under bare feet, a sanctum of mind a nice place of retreat.
The familiar sense of failure fills up in his face, as he hears the lies of his passion appear with disgrace.
A frothy old seascum omits from his throat, as his altering ego turns up for a gloat.
“I will”, he said with words of untruth, as the pain in his side plays alongside his tooth.
An almighty crash falls down hard on his heart, as he recoils the sound of a liars geese fart.
“To battle”, he cries or more like a mutter, he sees a butterfly lay still with not even a flutter.
The hill stood before but too big for he, so he plays with his winkles whilst on bended knee.
A laughter of mock comes from behind dirty ear, a sound to be a scared as his souls filled with fear.
Who could be making this sound with such glee, “who are you big bastard... Oh it was me”.
To slither snake like was the action he took, now sat alone underneath rock, he shook.
“Tomorrow I’ll do it” he said with no lies, then his head turned to stone as he closes his eyes.
