Human self pity

I play and search on a t.v. screen. Drink and smoke to ease the care, a frantic mess, my mind's at ease Reality is not for me. Time rolls on still in the dream. I pause to think of all iv'e lost. The sting begins within my eyes. I fight the tightening of my throaght. My Grandma's smoking on her stool on my Dads shoulders at the pools. Families together and brother not lost. Drinks at the pub we never had. The touch of a lover who'd never been cruel, another brother who forgot how to drink, another mother whoe's well and not sick, a foster father whoe's cancer was cured. A time at thornleigh we all never did have, cos my mums mind was well and not sick. Our mother warped us how to need, not this time, not in my dream. Once upon a time there was a boy who bonded with the sick. Escaping got him through so long, reality grew further dim.