Ah man ….

Driving rains wash the strain from my face.

And paint my persona with a grimaced struggle

Grey with the weight of my battle against life in

Such ever decreasing circles.

Ah Man ….

Post men and post boxes post ever more depression

And ever increase the levels of this dead pan grey

That, like huge grey clouds that ever invade me, skip round me,

Misguide and beguile me, draw me ever further to the edge.

Ah Man ….

Surely that inner light I was blessed with could repel such invasions

Batter back at such a heavy load

And blurt out a “Fuck Off” to it all.

Drawing on profanity to aid in my defence against what they call

This modern life

Ah Man ….

I just want to lay my head to rest

And take a back seat from my unattainable goals

Take sleep and repeat “Fuck Off” to it all

But now man ….

I battle against driving rains that paint and repaint this grimace

On this troubled and tired face.

And curse again against time tables and unreliable public transport

That once scoffed at in pride provides such punishment in my demise…

Ahhh Man … Fucking Buses Man