Story Tellers

we’re planted in the womb 

we grow and exhume

and as our founders die

we’re expected to stay alive

orienteering the noise

without any parental compass,

those still tethered to the umbilical cord 

collapse and die around us

few are natural story tellers,

despite what’s preached by the lectures,

many will try to dazzle you with 

their baseline vocabulary

which usually collapses 

under any sort of scrutiny,

haven’t you noticed …... 

the highbrow flock together,

exchanging quotes to create

“the illusion of clever”

silver-spoon sucking dummies,

a stiff upper lip, 

golfing buddies 

the product of

Oxford 

university 

literature 

studies,  

first world problems!

for those first in line

as you sit there

scoffing your

bread, 

Tofu

cheese 

and wine 

blissfully unaware 

those with diseased minds

write the finest of lines,

confined 

to their 

pharmaceutical cages 

an inner fire rages,

some get turned to flames 

amongst their pages,

cauterizing words

screams are never heard,

Nazi looks,

burning and butchering 

their half-finished books,

some of us don’t survive 

our fault lines,

we simply shatter, 

falling deep

among the facture, 

no amount of medication 

can manage the torture,

as stagnant seas wash over me

I will drift purposely

succumbing to my injury,

there will be a beautiful relief

as I get pulled beneath, 

those born tortured 

hung

drawn 

and 

quartered 

understand the only way 

to stay alive is not to die,

sounds easy … right!

alienation, 

stigmatisation 

warps our sense 

of limitation,

many can’t escape 

their story,

no matter 

the psychiatry,

it’s a blade 

to the wrist,

a gun to 

the head

a lifeless body

found dead 

in a bed,

when all 

has been tried

sometimes 

the soul 

and the body

divide,

this 

is 

labelled 

suicide

by those 

with a problem free 

ticket 

to ride