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Returned from the land of sand
Sunburned head
Aching beer glass hand
One dinar
Two dinar
Three dinar
Four
Taking the piss prices drop to the floor
Suicide loving parascenders
Plummet too quick
Leaving a trail of colourful sick
Sun worshippers
Bronze in the midday sun
Uncomfortable swimwear rides up your bum
Creeping melanomas
Approach while you sleep
People still blind of the trouble they reap
Week later
Back home in blighty
The wind and the rain
Everyday routines
That drive you insane
Went away last week on holiday ...only leave this one on for a bit...
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This is my worse nightmare. I need new, I need change. If everyday is like the other you do go insane. Some people like the stability of a regular routine, to those people I ask why? Would bore the hell out of me.
yeah, i totally get this...used to hate that feeling when you'd go away into peaceful beautiful oblivion for awhile and then come back to the same mundane existence that you'd created before you left. great poem.
