I wrote this poem not long after my wife left me. I was at home looking after our baby daughter and she was out fucking an ugly bastard who works as a slaughter man. I bugged the phones to catch her out and heard her talking to her friend laughing about me hanging myself. I had a complete nervous breakdown and lost three stones in weight in 6 weeks. I was hospitalised after laying on my floor crying till there was nothing left inside of me to cry about , I became almost catatonic, I wouldn’t have had the strength to even blow my own brains out then. I didn’t suffice to say and my kids still have a Daddy, no thanks to that Evil fucking bitch. I realise not all woman are like this but due to my PTSD it will take me a long time to trust another woman.
My wife doesnt love me anymore
But she lied often enough
She has had a go at happy families
My she`s had it rough
She has lots of family and friends
I have nobody
Love is a bad thing we all crave
Il blame the war
War creates whores
Those bastard foreign shores.
© Mack (RG)"Every day feels like the day of a funeral"
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