your mind is fucked
your body shot
the best years of your life, they said
it hurts to breath
from knicking fags
or taking drugs
in beer gardens and night clubs
you can't get drunk
you just get sick
your body got used
to the drug
academia fuelled by caffeine
three years and you'll be laughing
driven to hysteria
by the fear that you're inferior
nine hundred late nights
spent in books or bars
convinced this ends in a big house
and fast cars
then you get to sit an watch
the friends that stayed to see you off
instead of spending three years in books
get experience and expand their outlooks
on paper you're in a better position
but in reality it's a stupid tradition
you spent three years steeped in anxiety and pain
and traded it for the letters next to your name
now your mates are working the jobs
have the houses
the cars
and the perfect dogs
and you're trapped in a city
by a flat and a job
a place you never intended to stay
hoping it'll work out someday
Poem #3