That’s what makes us human,

that we tell our stories;

we tell not just theirs,

not those of the powerful,

but those of the women

and those of the men,

who all but survive,

in our stinking back-alleys;

so out I now venture,

I, who have been sheltered,

who am warm and well-fed,

to collect from the shop

poems written by many,

for you and for you,

for the muc...

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I'll sit and stare at the television
Get lost in this virtual prison
Life is not easy no yellow brick road
Or matrix created by some dark code
The sum of all fears, dreams on elm street
Jason and Michael a Halloween treat
Escape from a prison, follow schindlers list
Down eight mile, to listen to diss
Maybe get shorty, like a dark John Wick
Equaliser, rambo you take your pick
Chaos and ma...

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