“I Did Not Get My Own Way… And Now I Cannot Even Masturbate!” She Whinged To The Widow Depressed About Terminal Cancer by Paul Tristram

“This is the first day they have let Me outside
to smoke upon the benches, unsupervised.
I overdosed… slightly.
‘Cry For Help’ they call it?
Ridicule My suffering with crap terminology!
I am not like everyone else on that Ward…
with their broken homes, abuse thingy’s and poverty.
I am not going to apologize for being born into comfort.
I have problems too… Mother thinks only of herself
and Daddy doesn’t put his foot down enough
and when he does… I scream him into absolute tears.
They’ve nearly divorced three times because of Me…
push Me and I shall finish them off properly.
Anyway, this ‘Boy’ rejected Me?
Can you believe it?… I know right!
He’s not even that cute anymore…
I have never been so embarrassed in all My life
and he is the only one who’s not called to ask after Me.”

“Did you try being nice to him?”

“Pardon? Charming! What a horrible thing to say.
But, I guess that attitude is the reason
that your flower vase is always empty
and that you will die exactly the same way
as you spend visiting times… completely and utterly alone!”

Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories, sketches and photography published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight; this too may pass, yet. Buy his books ‘Scribblings Of A Madman’ (Lit Fest Press) http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1943170096 ‘Poetry From The Nearest Barstool’ at http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1326241036 And a split poetry book ‘The Raven And The Vagabond Heart’ with Bethany W Pope at http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1326415204 You can also read his poems and stories here! http://paultristram.blogspot.co.uk/