What do I do when there’s nothing to do?
You see, it’s my job. You know I’m not you
I bring out my pen and I think shit to write,
I’ll never admit who is wrong and whose right.

I’ve worked for, ā€œThe Manā€, but at least I’m still here.
I’ll write and I’ll eat and I’ll sit and drink beer,
or maybe a Jack as I scan all I see.
May not be for you, but it sure is for me.

Try foods from all walks as I slide from on my bed.
Try talking to folk or just wave arms instead.
I write in the language I’ve grown to adore.
You see I’m too old to learn anything more.

But age is a concept I’ve come to resist.
I spend most my evenings with rhyme and get pissed.
So, ā€˜Bothers me not’, if I mumble my words
You know all my poems are set free as my birds.

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The author

Adam Adamson still is an awesome shag... Well he is. Honest. But whatever, he has always loved to write, even before he could write. Its been a passion of his since he realised that others would read his stuff and get a little emotional. That gripped him really. Was it good or was it crap? Anyhoo! Enjoy reading what i’ve scribbled and who knows… one day it might make sense.

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