Should I bend to the critics?

Should I bend to the critics?

The trolls and know-alls?

Keep it impersonal

Drop romance for cynicism

Look at the outer

Rather than the inner

When the inner lacks

True depth.

Some people write heartbreak

Under fire

Lying in shit and mud

Fighting for breath

As the lights go out

The stars fall down

Watching sweet little angels

Disappear

In a spray of blood and dust

Does that make it better

More primal?

All I worry about

Is whether I might sneeze

Myself to death

Forget to squeeze and wet my pants

Is that a major catastrophe?

It would be if I were

Wearing white trousers

In a gastropub

Or walking in the city

With a good-looking woman

When was the last time I did that?

I wonder,

Would it come back to haunt me

If I was to lie

About my situation.

Dispatches from the front line

Beauty from within the beast

Safe in the knowledge

I am fine

And in the front room

Watching the world

Go by my window.

Sometimes, I would like it to stop

Perhaps spend time

Chasing moonbeams

Bending the ear of a stranger

Making the world a better place

With a smile on my face.

That might be something different

Something other.

It might stop the feeling.

Of death and despair

Which is always hiding somewhere

Close by

Even when the sun shines

And the sky is blue

Whether there is casual

Violence or

Cacophonous Silence

I am only one word away

From missing you.