Hapless Poem by Bryony Sheldon

Between the deadline and the deep blue sea
Icy, I see, it's seen to be a case of appy polly logies
I'm sun stricken and hate smitten,
The walls closing in, I'm struggling to breathe-
Vulgar, vile, twisting that dial
I'm trying to snap my spine to break my back for the right people.

There's no future, we're born to lose
We've one last chance in this ten life feline
I'm an evangeline except I've stopped trying
Because haste is making me, forsaking me, mistaken me,
We're a product of our dogmatic abnegation.

And there's patches
On the patches
Of my old blue jeans.

Well,

They used to be blue.
When they used to be new.
When they used to be clean.