A Rumoured Apocalypse – A Poem

The creaking cupboards

Dusty floors

All the grubby cubby holes

I couldn’t take any more

Sent me out

Into the street

I flapped my arms

Like butterfly wings

Shouting the end of things

Praying for apocalypse

To save me

From my shopping list

My face so distraught

With the panic I wrought

My fears were bought

Sanctuary sought

With little thought

My indulgence played

A went home again

While the world dominoed

With the terror I’d sowed

My troubles were forgotten

They reached for the button

11 thoughts on “A Rumoured Apocalypse – A Poem

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  1. Did you DIE??!!! I am convinced that it is the 23rd and that we’ve all been had by these shifty Mayans. Can I call you at 16:01 my time on 12/22– sorry 22/12(00:01 your time 12/23– sorry 23/12) to find out if you’re still alive?

      1. Can’t you get Mrs. Fierce Panda to give you a wank in celebration? Must you do it yourself? It’s not every day you find out the world could have ended but didn’t… or maybe it is.

You can tell me anything (yes, even that!)

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