A POEM BY BEN PARKER - 28/2/17

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i keep thinking its november

its not ben

its march

im depressed all the time

my bellys not filled with starch

my best friends know ive got a 

real bad sweet tooth

but these pearls stay white

for the photo booth

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listening to old Drake albums

thinking about the Future

not Hendrix

but the one filled with exams 

ex's and kids acting extra

hearing through the noise

seeing the wood from the trees

crowdfunding my energy

cant let my calendar

bring me to my knees

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no cellphone when im out in Budapest

you wont hear a peep

when you're asking how i am

ill probably be asleep

or trying to find myself

or my passport

border to border

running relay like a sport

the bigger picture ill never abort

the picture being success and days

in the sun with my best friends

and letting go of pain and tying loose

ends

sometimes things are unclear

you just need to change the lens

all my guy friends are loyal

and all my girl friends are tens

from Braintree to Brighton

and all those inbetween and overseas

they saw what i saw way

befort the birds and bees

iPhone 7's and plasma TV's

now all i care about are

underground CD's from artists

that no one knows

and getting grades to make

my mumma smile

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i miss those old trees

outside the kitchen window

i havent visited that village in a while

it feels like a minute

since i was 15

since it was november

i hated december 

january 1st felt like a new me

the honeymoon periods over

now im just trying to improve me

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i could disappear for 4 months

the only interaction being these

rhymes within your screen

dont doubt that ill text you back

right after my conscience is clean

and this workload is over

the return of the sweet tooth boy

with pearly whites 

like the cliffs of Dover

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