I’d become disorderly, not drunken

My mood became rapidly sunken

Gone were the laughs and sniggers

Replaced instead with emotional triggers

Half Cocked

Half Baked

This smoking gun

Shooting for shootings sake

Pulling back the lever

of these loaded chambers

Laughing nervously

aiming for my neighbours

Charges became polarised

Hopes went unrealised

Any attention retention

Left my adult self in detention

My trigger finger

became too itchy

and I become

a miser, and bitchy

I need to drop the weapon

place it down on the ground

Get out my own head

and take a look around


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