The next one…

Once again he found himself sat, staring.

“Wouldn’t it be great if someone caught his eye” he thought,

That would give him the opportunity, excuse, the reason to do what he did best, out and out destruction.

But until then he would sit just waiting to erupt, like a dormant volcano, sat, still, convincing all of those around him that there was nothing to worry about, that all was well. But it wasn’t,no,  he wasn’t well.

They said that the last episode was an attempt to make right the death of his father. What did they know? He would never make that right, that would remain a fact regardless of how many times he sought redemption.

Out of nowhere, she smiled, she even seemed to mouth the word hello, but by then the opportunity had passed. He’d missed it, and now his frustration turned inward. As good as he was with his fists, he managed to beat himself up without leaving any obvious marks or bruises. But then the deepest wounds were not always visible.

She’d escaped, and she didn’t even realise. She was lucky, fate had patted her on the back before she walked on by. Gone, she had to be forgotten.

The next one, the next one, they wouldn’t, they’d be lucky to remember the day, let alone the incident, the attack, he chuckled, half coughing on last night’s cigarettes, half tasty the adrenaline.

The next one, there was always the next one.

Hope

When the early sun does shine,

Where skies are cloudless blue,

Birds sing with the warmest heart,

Of times we all once knew,

Through darkness and adversity,

Often failing in life’s games,

Emerging so much stronger then,

A phoenix from the flames,

My hope is that the darker days,

Are in my past for good,

That I can once again just be,

The person that I should,

My tale’s not told for empathy,

Though it’s words may just hold true,

If I can live through all of this,

There’s always hope for you.

Mr Wimpey

I  was reading in the library,

When I heard a tale most vile,

I had to listen carefully,

As it was whispered in the aisle,

Apparently the postman,

The one that we all liked,

Well he’d killed another man,

With an old rock climbing spike,

Now the rest of this grim tale,

The details I can’t repeat,

Well he colluded with the butcher,

Who sold the man as meat,

So please be careful people,

If it’s burgers that you buy,

Whilst it may not be horsemeat,

It could be the other guy.