Page 5 - Down Tools A5 Flipbook

Modern Knives.
-So many differant types.
Why me, why me whhhhy me? I don’t want to talk now, can’t you see? Just leave me alone. I’m on the phone You bore me mate, just go home.
Boring, boring, everything’s boring don’t wake me up, just leave me snoring.
You’re “Chockerin” my head, too many voices, don’t know what to do, too many choices Too many things to think about.
I can’t keep it in, I’ve got to shout. I Feel like me head’s the Echo Arena.
I can’t swill it out, i need a
cleaner, Pressure’s building. Higher and higher, Spinning around like a Michelin Tyre.
What do i want, my hearts desire. My heads burnt out, it’s in the fire. You say that god loves a trier, but I’ve tried so hard.
She, he’s a liar, I’m a tennis ball, going back and forth. My brains gone south, body in the North. How can i change who i am knowing nothing else.
Since in the pram, childhood gifts of anger and violence. Imprisoned praise, released as
silence. Mixed up messages all my life, If i live by the sword. ...must i die by the knife?
Or can i get off this roundabout. To find out what life’s really about. Or will i always be, that nearly kid?
The one who’s almost... But never did Like a football player, without the kick. The bionic man being poorly sick. Am i just a Prime Donna who cares too much?
About rep and honour, The face in the mirror, that stare back at me. Isn’t the person, i wanted to be.
By Laura Walsh
5