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Open Mic Night


nathanj

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this recovery is slow

don't know which way i will go

up or down emotions flow

back and forth i steer a course

divorced from rational thought

and reporting this has brought me

to your door can i explore

a new idea without the fear

of ridicule, it's not the old

it's the new school

any fool can write a rhyme

when time is on your hands

i have a plan to write a book

and make a grand or two or three

so listen up and you will see

that you are in good company

and i think you will agree

that you are being entertained

by the rhythms of my brain

i like this game of spoken word

sometimes i'm tame

sometimes absurd

but never boring

i've been storing up the tears

sometimes i look sometimes i leer

sometimes straight

and sometimes queer

with a grin from ear to ear

to hide the pain and hide the fear

and once again i'm standing here

refraining from the beer

and it is clear

that they can't hear me at the back

so i'll attack this rhyme affresh

unless the mister with his bifter

and his coked up bleedin sister

keep on shouting down their phones

with droning voices

give me choices

and i'll breath and then i'll pause

for the applause i sometimes get

when i've finished off my set

on the mic

so if you like it tell your friends

and i'll come back one day and then

i'll do some more

this is a poem i wrote during a recent manic phase when i actually had the courage to perform

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