Frayed around the edges

Almost the last one
I have passed on
and then when it’s gone?

Everything looks metallic
men made of tin,

Doc’ said, I could be neurotic
prescribed me an

nothing cures a touch of fantasy
better than a dose of reality
I take two spoonsful
a day,
it doesn’t do anything for me
it keeps the Doctor away.

Teddy says, beddy byes
he stares at me with those
big glass eyes
it’s difficult to refuse.

ever been wired to the mains?
forgotten the names you were
given at birth?

The book of the damned was written
long before this moment was planned.

Kismet is the Internet,
and it’s
Karma that
spins the trap.

I put teddy on the shelf
beddy byes?
he can go fuck himself
I’m a big boy now
although I try not to swear
the words appear
out of thin air.

We’re hurtling out of control,
the book of the damned says
we ain’t got a soul
so who’s pulling the strings?

every question that deserves
an answer
only brings another question.

© 2017, John Smallshaw.