Submissions by TheCaveMan

You sit there talking like
you always do, having fun
Spitting wine out your mouth
like a myth
of the weekend
Control swoops the room
Control swoops the chest
My chest.
Drinking through the silence in my head
Force the good times,
Socialising, my old friend, we used to be so close
And talk all the time.
Over the years we drifted,
How times have changed
it's strange to think of what could of been
if the control didn't control
and just let loose and enrolled
into the weekend, like the flock.
flying...

I keep thinking that problems arise from others
the more I dwell I realise
that pain comes from the top dogs
not just the others
the others deal the same way we do,
with daily struggle
getting to work, getting behind the mule
in the morning
if we all joined, came together in hatred,
or happiness,
either way
they both get shit done.