Read Poem: TAKE ME HOME, by Mark Gee

Pesticide. Messed up inside.
Taken home and washed out to dry.
Paranoid behaviour. Screwball maker.
Beaten up with midnight favour.

Take me home where the grass is greener,
Take me home make me feel cleaner,
Who knows what happens when your hexed up inside.
Lest we forget, the future is bright.

Pessimism is my profession.
A career in suicide is my game.
Come, take me to the cleaners.
Wash my blood and give me fame.

Mastered by one, broken by none,
Ease my mind, sing my song.
Show me your soul, i’ll show you mine,
Maybe one day we’ll learn to die.
Until that day comes, show me the sky
Let me make hay whilst the sun ever shines.

Take me home, I’m walking dead.