Ripping out pages
As I write these down
Better swim to shore
Before you drown
This isn’t the place
For the likes of you
A filthy bastard
Set adrift, it’s true
But be grateful
With me to thank
For the boys here
Wanted you upon the plank
A palpable desire
Feeling it from deep within
Drowning my anxiety
Beneath 4 olives, vermouth & gin
Supposed to be a functioning adult
But I say bollocks to all that noise
It wasn’t all that long ago, still
Running the streets with the boys
Though I dress better now
The soul leaking through the cracks
My heart is a fragile commodity
Foreboding the oncoming attack
Captain Q 