by P.J. Lowry
I feel the energy to make it through the day
days can be so tough, I return home scarred
working so long that my spirit begins to fray.
My bones ache as the body show its age
everyday tasks are becoming more difficult
my frustration begin to transform into rage
as daily chores fail to get their desired result.
Getting old wasn’t supposed to occur so fast
as I slowly fade away into the forgotten past.
Help me if you can, for I cannot stand
I am weak an unable to fend for myself
will we as a people be able to withstand
or should we be stashed on high shelf?
I grow frail and week as my heart breaks
life as I hoped did not turn out so well
like a diabetic in a room full of sweet cakes
I am unable to enjoy what life has to sell.
My pockets are about as empty as my heart
as these coins means little with no one around
to share the little things with, like fine art
I refuse to wander their halls with this frown.
She promised to stay with me, share all life’s joys
all that’s left of our love are those two little boys.
Long are the days, even longer is the night
as I lie there alone in my enormous fluffy bed.
Even lonelier are my days as I go out and fight
when most people would rather see me dead.
Long behind are the good days with my family
as I gaze upon pictures that reflect a forgotten past
I often feel like an aging fossil, like a giant oak tree
weak and brittle but still able to live on and last.
Cold is the summer, even colder is the winter
when I have no one around to snuggle with
I fill my shattered heart with shots of liqueur
hoping my lonesome days will become a myth.
I’m not sure if there is another out there for me
but I hope she’ll come along and set my soul free.
People suffer; it’s always going to happen
but that’s hardly an excuse to stand idly by
we need to make a stand every now and then
only then will successful deeds start to apply.
Charity is not weakness, but an act of love
to show sincere kindness for those in need
a gesture of respect that is rarely spoken of
restoring dignity with the act of a simple deed.
It’s a shame there wasn’t more that I could do
sometimes I lack the resources to take action
my lack of help occasionally makes me blue
as the help I give doesn’t create any satisfaction.
More can be done, that we’re all very aware
to demonstrate how much we all really care.
Life was spilt on this hallowed ground
by young men who never got to grow old
war took flesh from them by the pound
those who lived were left out in the cold.
They came home and were quickly forgotten
swept aside as war was erased from sight
how we treated them was cruel and rotten
they were our champions, our white knight.
While they volunteered for the gruesome job
they deserve more thanks than what they got
there should have been more, a small mob
to celebrate their return, but there was not.
To the person who is goes to do our dirty work
soldiers deserve more than this thankless jerk
Time is a gift that is often squandered
as we fail to share it with those we love
requests for attention often go unheard
by rude people who believe they’re above.
Children call for our love and attention
but parents often work too hard to notice
its their warmth makes our day brighten
without kids, days are draped in darkness.
Their soft voices, combined with big hug
inform a parent how much they are adored
as unconditional love is a very strong drug
the kids will make anyone feel fully restored.
Life changes forever when you become a parent
it is the best feeling ever, it’s fucking brilliant!
Never in my life had I adored someone
with such a deep and burning feeling
yet my heart feels trapped in a dungeon
as not loving her is to deny breathing.
It’s not meant to be with this perfect woman
she has already found her own soul mate
despite being one amazing person in a billion
she will never be mine, denied forever by fate.
Never was there such a perfect match to me
and instead I watch her live her own dream
with a bloke who isn’t worthy of her honey
it’s her and I that would make a perfect team.
If seems time and fate conspired against us both
for never will that exquisite lady and I be betroth.
Should we strive to be a good loser
when the one we lose is our soul mate
our love stolen away by some schemer
a piece of filth that I will forever hate.
It is to my benefit that I never met him
that terrible person who ruined my life
for I’d be tempted to remove his limbs
and carve that bastard up with a knife.
I would certainly try to have a little fun
punishing this man for breaking marriage
I’d enjoy shooting a few times with a gun
before tossing that jerk off the highest bridge.
Many say that to forgive him would be brave
I say fuck it; let’s send him to an early grave.
Everyday I sit at the same chair and wonder
is there more to life than the simple things?
As this terrible job ruins my life from under
I feel trapped, chained like a puppet to strings.
This wasn’t how things were supposed to go
I was to travel the world, seek out adventure
seek out new life and things for us to know
yet I’m shackled to a desk, unable to venture.
Boring is the life we lead, there is so much more
within this world, beyond our invisible borders
these days travel seems like a unenviable chore
as we remain at our desk and follow orders.
Working for a penance is not life, it’s a living death
desert your domestic prison and enjoy free breath.
True love is a curious and fascinating thing
worlds turn upside down, people feel foolish
such brightness and contentment it does bring
but takes patience and care to help it flourish.
I see her walk by and wonder what could be
should she ever notice such a irrational louse
to love a bloke so honest and ordinary as me
and ever invite me over for dinner at her house.
To look upon her is to relive a fantasy or dream
for she’s out of my league, way above my pay grade
such a shame because we’d make an amazing team
if she were mine, it’s be as cheerful as a big parade.
Things were not meant to be, that’s what I am told
but still I long to fee her arms, tight within her hold.
White is the ground like a bridal dress
cold is the air as winter has finally arrived
with lots to clear this causes much stress
<
br /> as I long for spring to return, to feel revived.
But here I stand, clearing away tons of snow
my arms ache as I shovel away a bit at a time
when I think of all the treaties, such as Kyoto
I wonder why warmer winters are such a crime.
Nobody likes this stuff but skiers and stoners
no one else likes it or wants to see their breath
so you can keep your songs and cheery banters
winter is a curse, it feels almost as bad as death.
We all groan our displeasure when we see it fall
fuck hockey, I want twelve months of baseball!
When looking to the future, I begin to worry
wishing this whole world was an easier place
as my children grow up in a different country
with a callous government that I can’t replace.
I fear for their future, their ability to succeed
whether they’ll fit into this ever growing world
as people are still evaluated by skin and creed
my hopes for their achievement are very curled.
It’s normal for a father to suffer such paranoia
they always want the very best for their offspring
I wish there was something out there, a little extra
push to do a bit more, even if it might be cheating.
It’s good to worry because when we want to do more
they’ll learn how to act for that someone they adore.
Each time I lay eyes on her, my world stops turning
I lose my breath, forgetting everything around me
like a dying flower in the sun, my heart is blooming
around her striking beauty, I don’t feel so lonely.
It’s a shame she can’t be mine, as I start to assume
that her husband might have a bit of a problem
with her and I sharing the same very same room
before finding my unwanted attention very tiresome.
Despite my love, never would I wish for anything bad
to ever happen to their happy and very sacred union
if I were to cause their separation, she’d feel so sad
divorce is not what I would wish for any man or woman.
As much as I care and would love to be hers forever
seeing them happy, even that makes things brighter.
She caresses my brow, strokes my cheek
never in my life am I so loved, so cared for
when in her arms I feel mellow and weak
for the sickness I have only she can cure.
She comes to me at night, when I slumber
deep within the dwelling of my subconscious
to share my bed, lie with me in my chamber
as every night she comes feels like Christmas.
Her lips kiss my ear, her fingers comb my hair
there isn’t a person I would rather be instead
when in her loving arms, in her imaginary care
wishing she could really be here in my bed.
She’ll never really come to me, this much I know
these dreams are all I have to combat this sorrow.
Those who are uninformed often irritate me
their voices like nails scratching a chalkboard
their lack of sympathy seems to be the key
to why their ignorance seems to strike a cord.
The truth is out there, but one must be willing
read a book, a newspaper or even the internet
discover the real truth behind all this killing
all made to safeguard the ever growing debt.
Lives are destroyed and yet the fraud goes on
families bankrupted, tossed out of their homes
to those fat cats we’re all just collateral, a pawn
fattening their pockets as they sit on their throne.
Countless crooks walk free as they’re too big to fail
never paying for their crimes, not a single day in jail.
There are days when things get too quiet
sitting alone, pondering what might have been
I feel like someone forced to take a social diet
helpless to meet people or be allowed to fit in.
I’m banished from my own kin and social circles
humbled by the loss of those I love and respect
my soul is melting away like summer popsicles
as everyone’s loyalty and honour is still suspect.
When my love and I fell apart, lines were drawn
people were forced to take sides, it was me or her
I was stunned to see who stayed and who was gone
a loss so tough, I badly needed a few shots of liquor.
Friends will come and go, that’s just the plain truth
but when they leave, it’s as painful as losing a tooth.
My heart goes still whenever she enters the room
I’m mesmerized by her slender legs, her soft cheek
sweet music plays in my head as feelings bloom
such a pity I only see her beauty once a week.
She’s out of my league, which is completely true
yet I can’t help but look, admire her from afar
if I had the courage to tell her, if only she knew
my feelings remain bottled, preserved within a jar.
I long to feel her warm embrace, her loving arms
as I dream about her each night as I sleep alone
she’s so lovely, I always fall for her many charms
it’s hard to wake up as another encounter is blown.
My dreams are just that, they will never come true
I’m left to wonder if my heart will remain forever blue.
As I manage to see my kids every other week
I’m reminded of what a failure I was as a husband
it’s hard to talk to her, to turn the other cheek
trying to be civil with her is like pissing in the wind.
There are days when we can talk and be nice
and others when I’m tempted to punch the wall
then there are days we’re both as quiet as mice
and others when words hit hard like a cannon ball.
Divorce is more difficult when you have children
you have to see her, whether you want to or not
there are days when you are divided like a canyon
when the other person always looks like a crackpot.
It’s hard to move on when you see her all the time
kids are worth the trouble; they’re our special lifeline.
People work hard to barely make ends meet
working hands to the bone for next nothing
while the fat cats horde their cash in conceit
unable to hear everyone weep while counting.
It isn’t fair to treat all these people like slaves
making a pathetic wage that’s never enough
forcing our elders to work into their graves
as today’s workers have never had it so rough.
Things need to change, workers are getting mad
very soon the people are going to rise and fight
not for a long time have families been this sad
one day they will unite and do what is right.
Corporations are gutless as their values cheapen
and soon they will witness the rebirth of the union.
These days people are affronted far too easily
leaving egos battered, leading to great conflict
incidents occur when beliefs are followed blindly
as people are hooked on God like a drug addict.
Faith isn’t supposed to overrule free speech
we should be free to speak or draw cartoons
as priests, clerics and cartoonists should preach
without having to deal with
homicidal loons.
Religions are nothing without their freedom
like the right of organization and expression
as without them they would all hit rock bottom
and become victims of a crushing oppression.
Without free speech there’s no freedom for religions
so respect those who do not follow your superstitions.
Sometimes it feels like my suffering will never end
video of my failures forever replay inside my head
so insecure it seems impossible to find a girlfriend
it’s so hard to move on when things are left unsaid.
I beat myself up with hypotheticals and guesses
wondering what I could have done to avoid my fate
sitting at home alone, missing her hugs and kisses
whether or not I’m a hopeless fool isn’t up for debate.
Am I a fool for missing her despite the heartbreak
and the all the pain her betrayal brought to me?
whenever I see her, a part of me will always ache
as a result, around her I’ll always feel like a turkey.
Our love was so wonderful, like we made it to the top
memories are all I have to share with each teardrop.
Often the hate will gnaw away at my soul
like a rabid dog chewing on a tasty bone
for inside this heart is an unmistakable hole
as I lay here on this king sized bed alone.
Broken is the home that I raised my kids in
like the scar that we left on their childhood
something appalling that effects all our kin
I honestly would take it all back if I could.
The pain however is not mine to take back
for I’m not the one who ran off to a hotel
conducting a horrid betrayal in the sack
