Tugging on a
memory of hope
living a lie smoking
too much dope
became paranoid
gave it a name
called it Flloyd.
Flloyd was alive
out to get me said he
worked for M.I. 5;
in my solitary cell
called it despair
no one comes
no one cares;
memories
of hope
of hope
fade bit by bit
in a sneering way
I heard him say
I heard him say
Just get over it.
Hey Flloyd
I’m not letting
you out to play
but I roll a spliff
pull some tokes
Flloyd knocks on
the door of my mind
giggle and laugh right
in his face....yo, Flloyd
try and be nice today.
© Julian Clarke 2016
Great energy, this one. Love to hear it read ... no, belted out!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Richard, might give this one an outing at this months open mic.
DeleteThis made me smile. :)
ReplyDeletemakes me smile too, thankyou for your thoughts.
DeleteMade me smile at the ending. Have a good Sunday
ReplyDeletemuch love...
Thankyou, Gillena for your comment
DeleteThey will love it at the open mic! I love the ending.
ReplyDeleteHi Sherry, thank you and glad you liked it.
DeleteLove how you give this second self a name. Keeping him in focus and in check ...bkm
ReplyDeleteI agree with Sherry, this would be great at an open mic.
ReplyDeleteI dig the narrative of this piece!
ReplyDeleteA lot of truth in this one and - yep - the ending brought a smile.
ReplyDelete"gave it a name" ha..a great way of looking at life...
ReplyDeletei think it's very hard to trust Flloyd, especially with a double 'l' in the name. but anyway, pass that joint. :)
ReplyDeleteBeautifully poignant write ❤️
ReplyDeleteGroovy.... Flloyd sound cool, but I would be wary.
ReplyDelete