A love unstrung, but I am no longer undone

In the grand scheme of things 

My being is unbeing, 

Quite enough.

No special toughness is strung 

Around my seeing; in fact, lately 

I care little for tremendous splash:

The lash of those cruel to me

Over the years doesn’t exactly

Make me indifferent, either.

But the withering gaze of contempt 

I could feel for yous

Seems precisely the wrong approach 

To take right now.

I could be immensely angry

With the tiresome games 

Yous preferred to play with me: 

With PTMIs here 

And PTMIs there

And PTMIs everywhere,

I begin to mimic a Beatles’ song

When all along I wished 

Only to mimic their spirit:

Always explore;

Never give in;

Be the man you 

Always could have been.

And so on this fab anniversary,

I count the fifty years of the 

Glorious Sgt Pepper,

And add almost five years more 

From myself: 

For what no PTMI 

Can now ever steal 

Away in such dark 

As that dark yous harkened me with 

For so long and so wrong,

And so utterly unsonged, 

Is the certainty 

And the understanding 

I suddenly possess of the world

I perceived all those fourteen years ago,

Which yous snatched 

From my doing 

When you imprisoned me

And drugged me

And died me on my feet

As you did.

And the feat I’ve now achieved 

Is to touch a reality

Yous hid from me and my family, 

And probably the rest of the rock,

As the tocking of time 

Required this long wait

To gate your violation 

In the pen it deserves, 

With the pen I now brandish

And do – finally – proudly reclaim.






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