I spy 45,
I have never felt,
so alive,
when I hit,
something like
I just wanted to,
bury myself,
and now,
I spy 45,
I am still,
some what alive,
after dancing,
with trinkets,
of death,
and knives,
of ice,
I have come,
back to haunt,
you all,
and I have,
started to be,
some kind of nice,
I spy 45,
I was once in school,
bullied maybe,
I was a fool,
wanted to end,
this life of mine,
getting down under,
fists of fury.
judged by the,
wrong kind of jury,
now I spy 45,
got myself here,
kept myself,
never thought,
I could,
be like this,
still angry,
deep inside,
keeping my stride,
days are harder,
weeks unsure,
years pass by,
like pizza,
on a non stop,
conveyor belt,
I spy 45,
dust off,
the frisky cobwebs,
I bought,
from myself,
struggling along,
a one way street,
singing along,
to my infectious beat,
keep on flying,
with my face,
making a racket,
without making,
any sound,
I spy 45,
not quite there yet,
doing things,
my own way,
without suckling,
on a teet,
called regret,
keep on coming,
I am ready,
with my knock out,
soft handed punch,
I am all out of ideas,
so I am heading off,
to some kind of lunch,
I spy 45,
thanking myself,
without spanking,
cheers for keeping,
this insane storyteller,
some what alive!

┬ęDarren Hobson April 2015