Feeling bad-tempered,
so don’t wind me up.
I could get weird,
with too much stimulation.
.
.
© Neil Hayes and neilhayeswriter
© Neil Hayes and neilhayeswrites
Inside, outside, there’s no escape. Everywhere I look. I’m surrounded.
Who to trust? Suspicion consumes me. Where can I go, to feel safe?
I turn down an alley, hardly able to breath. Pushing myself into a doorway where no-one can see me.
But there is still someone watching. I still feel consumed by terror.
Who can it be? Where are they?
Then, a realisation. Me. I’m the observer, the follower, the spy.
Who to trust? Trust no-one.
Doubt all, even self.
.
.
© Neil Hayes and neilhayeswriter
When a child, they are a god to you
They lead, you follow
Bigger, stronger, more confident
Then you grow, begin to catch up
And finally overtake
You want to learn, to improve
But they seem to be stuck in their ways
Even regressing
Unwilling to change, to grow up
They weren’t clever after all
Just bigger and stronger
What a disappointment
My big brother, America
.
.
© Neil Hayes and neilhayeswriter