I never sought sympathy.
And if I was loose end,
Felt like talking, I was
Shot down in flames.
Never once: ok I will give you that,
That was tough.
Fred would try and
Trounce my feelings
By something in his life.
Just let me have this one?
The hospital spoke
For itself but I began
To think, that he
Must think I am defective too.
You take pills? (One pill actually)
Is what you have
Terminal like my
Mam's liver cirrhosis?
It could be genetic.
I could get it.
My cousin was
A real junk head
And I had carry
The coffin even though
I was not
Sad in the slightest
To see that
Waste of skin go.
Boys used to target
Me cause my
Brother was hard, so
I had to learn
How to fight.
I never went to
University because I
Never had a computer
At home or enough money
To download music.
Ok sorry I spoke.
There was no use
Confiding in Fred.
He said Paul
Was wonder boy
Off his own back,
And then I confessed
Well, there was
This time and that time.
And he said that
His sister's got
More than him
And he worked for
Absolutely everything himself.
He made out like
He was impoverished,
But he just had
A large family.
And his mum
Did not identify
Or wear a cross
But like my Gran
She would sing
My cup, rolling over
A very christian belief.
He thought he
Was hard done by
When he wasn't.
His parents were
What I wish mine
Were more like.
When kids came
Along they dedicated
Themselves to family life.
A close knit family.
The parents who
Would give things
Up if need be
To provide for them all.
Mine just seemed
To avoid responsibility
Or not face up to.
My ol'mum was
Offered promotions
But she turned
Them down again and again.
Do it for your kids.
She admitted not
Wanting any so
That base was covered.
She did not even
Listen to her brother
Who said, do it
For self improvement
To better herself.
The pay was not
A massive amount more
But once you take
One step up, you
Can take another
After that one.
And looking back
It was maybe a
Good thing Fred did
Not let me dwell
On some things.
Yet when it was convenient
He would remind
Me that I was
In that place.
All the stupid things
I wanted to
Forget about he
Would make me
Feel like it was
The work of a
Complete crazy coot.
Ravings of a lunatic.
So I began to
Consider that maybe
There was meaning.
He could be wrong.
I may be right
And a slim chance
Was still a chance.
I was not insane.
I would not
Be walking the streets
If they thought I was insane.
They would have
Kept me longer
Than the 28 days
If they thought I was insane.
They would not
Have asked me
About my childhood.
They would not
Have offered art therapy
Or assertiveness classes.
I was not insane.