August warm evening I’m feeling a little raw
my heart is wounded more than before
the vices of life have made me irritated and sore
the scorn of the doctor I’ve had my war
laying low and keeping a distance from alcohol
the pain inside doesn’t mix well with beer at all
felling tired from all my usual pathetic failings
and this warm night my thirst is biblical
reading Wordsworth just to see where I went wrong
his words were pure and majestic all along
in a different age where the impurities were rare
his meadows and valleys now concrete and tar
he listened to birdsong I only hear a din
who shouts the loudest will surely win
the dog wants to sleep and barks his disapproval
of the summer chaos and constant upheaval
the giddy children on holiday with mum and dad
screaming for ice-cream going completely mad
the pathetic splutter of the mopeds in my head
exhaust fumes choke the kids who are late for bed
the cool young men who wheel spin Fiat Pandas
the stereo costs more than their tin can
screaming insults at anyone that looks their way
what a price to pay to become a modern man
where did we go and how did we reach here
our humanity fragile more broken with each year
we’ve become so vulgar yet so afraid
not thinking of dignity in the words we said
anxious minds ready to destroy our brother
treacherous eyes seek out another lover
no morals we don’t want to follow rules
we’ve become undignified and heartless fools
the noise of it all makes such a horrendous din
I retreat into myself knowing I could never win
I just can’t compete with that I don’t know why
I can’t be this vulgar creature I tell no lie
August warm evening I’m feeling even more raw
my heart is beating faster than ever before
the voices of life have made me irritated and sore
the scorn of this poet now I’ve declared war

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