I am no more important than anyone else, no more important at all.
I realise that, sometimes I cry, I bawl.
Then why should I speak, expect anyone to listen, hear what I say?
I wish to speak these words before they go away.
I am forlorn, hopeless, or is that just the state of things?
I don’t expect to be buried in the valley of the kings.
When I die should I say, as Nixon said, you won’t have me to kick around anymore?
Self pity ain’t my thing, don’t get me wrong, astore, astore.
I cry for the world, its victims, the dispossessed.
Perhaps in death I’ll find some rest.
Why should anyone, a no one like me, speak up, speak out, say set my people free?
I don’t want to end my life not saying what I see.
I know others spoke and speak, they are and were ignored, not heard.
I speak in my own way, I say the same, listen to the word.
The word is joy and laughter, love and life, the simple things, simple and profound.
Hear the music calling, dance to its sound.
Its all around.
Say goodbye to misery and woe.
Goodbye, goodbye, its time for you to go.
Hello love, welcome home, face of a stranger, don’t die alone.
Okay, I may be mad but I don’t care, no, that is wrong, I do.
How about you?
I say something before I die.
The question, why?
I know the answer, self interest did it all.
What can I do?
I write words on the wall.
Walls of indifference, walls of hate and greed and fear.
I write these words.
Love, come here.
How can I say it all, how can I do it on my own?
It is not possible.
You are not alone.
So, I leave it there, I play some music to get over things.
Dead men lie in the valley of the kings.
15th March, 2016