by Darragh Hayden from Secret Voices
All the time he sits
Staring out his window.
Out to the back, but no further
Cigarettes lit, dead or lying.
Voices mixed and screaming.
Music killing his ears,
Chopin looks sad today;
The three monkeys are still the same:
Blind, deaf and dumb.
The world has stopped again
At 25 past the 4. He wonders why?
All the time people say it’s alright.
Sick is what he is, sick.
Time stops, he’s not going anywhere.
At least not just yet.