deepundergroundpoetry.com
I Love the Smell of Irony
Life and the World
People and Places
Are all a bucket of shite
Excuse my use of the word
Bucket: Let me rephrase
They are all a bucket of shite
Minus the bucket
I do sometimes enjoy life's ironies
Like a rapist being sent to jail
And then being gang raped
For picking up the soap
Like a Paedophile sent to jail
Put in the Beasts Wing
Tortured by his cell mate
Covered in lighter fluid
And burnt to death
Seems fitting and amusing
Irony is everywhere
Some amusing, some not so
Loneliness is slowly killing me
My psyche tells me it's my fault
She says I have to get out there
Meet people and make friends
I thought Jesus! What a horrible thought
A local advert said the following
We meet on a Tuesday night
From 7:00pm to 9:00 pm
For coffee and chat with others
Who feel lonely and socially Isolated
That's me I thought, should I go?
I cogitated for about an hour
Nervously I put my coat on
I left the house determined
Got to the meeting place
It was in darkness
Both big red doors were locked
I was so deflated, so saddened
I sat for a while staring at the doors
Nobody was coming to open up
Then I smirked just a little
A person feeling socially isolated
Feels even more socially isolated
Because of two locked red doors
A broken promise of being included
Can't you just smell the irony
Today's True story
How was your day
Answers on a post card
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