Sleepin’ in till ten

sleeping in till ten, poetry, hanging, suicide

Woke up

in the morning

really stoked

and just like an ox animal

pulling his own slave cart

till complete exhaustion

she wanted to put around

my neck that punishing yoke

the wife yelled at me

I couldn’t cope

almost went to the nearest nave

cause’ I needed to be saved

again in the usual shriek

I couldn’t find words to speak

bitchin’ about somethin’

screamin’ loud

about that same thing

I didn’t want to get round’ to fixin’

followin’ me

around that dumpy fixer upper house

rainin’ on my head

like some dark

stormin’ cloud

I got depressed

feeling worthless

at best

crumb bum me

eyes watering couldn’t see

found it hard not to mope

so I

looked in the garage

through my tools

and boxed up household supplies

for one ten foot long

straggly piece of hangin’ rope

made a home made noose

cinched it up loose

went round’ my neck

like a long neck goose

what the heck

threw it over the wood

joist above

feelin’ like a complete wreck

it fit like a glove

got me a chair

set it on the deck

stood on it

rope was taught

saw I

made a good knot

and it’d hoist

but then

I heard that familiar nagging voice

of that shrew of a wife

coming for me

In all her angry unjustified strife

Yellin’ and a screamin’

and abusin’ my mind

down to my soul

I was quickly

running out of time

I made my choice

gave myself a shove

jumped off that chair

flew like a dove

lettin’ go of all that rage



side to side

feelin’ my age

lookin’ down from above

like many a hanged man

full of pride on you know what kind of parade

she simply wouldn’t abide

being so full of boiled over chide

she had that butcher knife

sharp and


by her side


cut that rope

saving my worthless hide

I felt myself

falling off that chair




inside that ungodly dream

another screechin’



where the ol’ wife

called me one lazy

no good lousy

son of a b _ _ _ _

can’t seem to escape


can’t    ditch    it

felt for the rope

wasn’t around my nape

for a moment I thought I was


wearing his blue and red cape




not in our comfy ol’ warm bed

but on that cold bumpy

crummy back breaking couch

in our den

with no place to lay my head



She busts me


catching ZZZZ’s

sleepin’ in till ten

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