Birthday

Two days before my 52nd birthday

I have the same amount of money in my pocket

As I had when I was 12.

Not enough for a packet of tobacco

But at least I have shelter above my head.

I am going to die like so many

Lonely and un-childed

It is easy to foresee

All because of an unfounded rumour

That I was gay when I was dreadfully

Unhappy with the summertime use of

The word for the last time

I am not but I hate you for thinking so

So goodbye cruel world

I win again with the touch of the knife-blade

To my scalp, I shave it again

For the fear and the anger grow too

Much to survive it as such.

 

Copyright Bruce E Saunders 2016

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