Crawly Creepy

Crawly creepy all over my hands

My donnies ruined beforehand

I can’t shake you by the hand

without soiling your hand

Forgive me I have not washed

for me, can’t afford the water

I can’t afford the water

God don’t give me what he oughta

I’m stuck in a maze looking round

and there’s no solid ground to be seen

only slowly moving lava

and that’s no place to linger

What can I do I’m nothing to you

the fucking government pays my rent

and leaves me to linger on yesterday’s

hopes and glories. May I ponder

and not hesitate but wonder

how we got into this mess

and at whose behest.

Published by Andrew Mark Watkins

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