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Thursday, 16 March 2017

Not My Fault

I had a relapse, arguing at a bus stop,
And using myself as a theatre prop -
I threw my arms about in a rage -
For a considerable age.

I was delusional and frightened
As my perception heightened -
I was fearful to what might ensue
As passengers were looking blue.

You knocked into me, not me into you,
It wasn't my fault - you new -
Leave me alone as I am prone
To a moan in an augmentative tone

I think: 'who are you really and why
Do you be offended enough to cry
As you struck the first blow
With your partner in tow'.

Copyright Andrew Stevenson 16/03/2017

Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

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