Cuckoo Poem by Nick Donaldson

Up in the cracks I used to live
And hide from the light of every child's day
When I could have been free and frollick
Nature gave me this disease
Where a cuckoo sat and taunted me
It's lasted every day for the years I've sat in the cracks
Hovering over the sour sawdust settiling at my lips
Just me and that cuckoo

I tried to talk to it and interupt
The intense humming of darkest humanity:
'You were what you were
Clean cut, unbecoming
Recreation for the masses
You will always mistake fists for flowers'
I sceamed for it to scare away
It stuck, neck bent up, throat bursting out
Bile into my eyes
Soon infected, nails broken, hunger's a word
That 6 million cry out

I have failed to silence this
Dual of personalities
Me, the one on devil's soldiers
The other intimidating, cursing
I hate it so...
As figures around stretch up tall

I bathe every night in this bleach
Of substance and chemical
With no second of pause
So I can stop to see the world
The city at night full of dream
The ocean sea, rolling its future across the bay
And with cold steel, odour on their bodies
Making moves to understand
The blood rushing doesn't set any of us free
I could only stare in disbelief as the figures left
All except that damn cuckoo
I hate it so... I took its blame
For it to go away