GW Poetry


I once had a pile of cocaine

It saved me from life’s daily pain

Then it was gone

My stuff was all pawned

Oh how I miss the fast lane



Detestable ass

Obnoxious, stinking jerkwad

You did not call me



Planning and planning, and planning some more

Life placed into categories, a time for each chore

What would I be, without my schedule’s decree?

I wouldn’t run time, no, I’d be its whore



I have a dream

to let go of feelings

and humanly dealings

To let an icy heart

be my new start

and maybe laser vision

could be found in my decision

as I flee this fleshy cage

and enter a better age

in my own robotic regime