I should take myself off

I should take myself off

To wander aimlessly

Sit on a rock somewhere

Gaze at the mountains

Falling away,

Disappearing over the edge

Fading into the sky.

Everything becomes nothing

Which is something

I guess.

Even the cry of a baby

Heard over the whine

Of the neighbours' cat

Is proof of that.

Do they ever let it out?

The cat, I mean.

Wild boys in the alley shout

Obscenities as a

Rite of passage.

Two drunks argue over

The last can of special brew

Stolen from the supermarket

On the corner.

One for all

All for one.

Try to be happy

Somebody said

Forget what’s written in my head

Take a hatchet to it.

Happy thoughts want to stay in

I know they are there

I can pass the time

Shuffling the images

An album of my life

Sift through morbidity

Focus on gratitude.

Everybody knows this

Why write about it

If it is not worth the struggle.

Good memories are like buses

Another one will come by

In a minute.

One time I stood at a stop

On a hillside in Cumbria

I missed the only bus

Of the day.

People brought sandwiches

Made a day of it

Had a picnic

Struck up friendships

Got engaged, married and divorced

Between one bus and the next.

The world is full of stories

Some of them are true.

People have a way of being

That lends itself to fiction

Good humour

And morality

But the guys with an air of mystery

Seem destined to be immortalised

Glorified

Demonised

Which counts me right out

I guess.