Thursday, 3 November 2016

Flloyd

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
fade bit by bit
in a sneering way
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

16 comments:

  1. Great energy, this one. Love to hear it read ... no, belted out!

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    1. Thank you, Richard, might give this one an outing at this months open mic.

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  2. Replies
    1. makes me smile too, thankyou for your thoughts.

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  3. Made me smile at the ending. Have a good Sunday

    much love...

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    1. Thankyou, Gillena for your comment

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  4. They will love it at the open mic! I love the ending.

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    1. Hi Sherry, thank you and glad you liked it.

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  5. Love how you give this second self a name. Keeping him in focus and in check ...bkm

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  6. I agree with Sherry, this would be great at an open mic.

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  7. I dig the narrative of this piece!

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  8. A lot of truth in this one and - yep - the ending brought a smile.

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  9. "gave it a name" ha..a great way of looking at life...

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  10. i think it's very hard to trust Flloyd, especially with a double 'l' in the name. but anyway, pass that joint. :)

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  11. Beautifully poignant write ❤️

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  12. Groovy.... Flloyd sound cool, but I would be wary.

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