I was possessed by a demon so lazy,
He left the Priest feeling slightly hazy.
He wanted some ecclesiastical action,
But this Demon didn't give him no satisfaction.

My Priest said "you've got to stick it to him!"
So I took us both to the local gym.
I did some cardio and did some weights,
I stayed there until really very late.

Finally, when doing some cross-training,
My chest started straining,
And a voice (not mine) wailed like a Banshee,
"The power of exercise compels me!"

So that was how my Demon was exorcised;
Bloodless, sweaty Holy exercise.
Now I'm a major fitness fanatic
Thanks to forces oh so Satanic!

Sat on a leatherette sofa waiting for my order.

The kitchen looks to be in some disorder.

The staff are flirting,
The customers deserting.

Leaving me still sat on a leatherette sofa wondering,

Where in the hell is my order?!

Mirror mirror on the wall,
Who's the sanest of them all?
They say I'm mad and egocentric,
But you and I know I'm just wonderfully eccentric.

You've reflected my soul for many a year,
We've seen me shed many a tear
For they all have it in for me
As my beauty lives in infamy.

I know I'm stunning and uncrazy,
But, some days do get a little hazy;
If I forget to take my mild prescription
Then my beauty really does defy description!

I never come here, you understand,
I'm of a higher social class,
But my washer dryer has broken down
And has left me without a single gown.

My dishwasher works fine and my wine rack is full,
But still, expensive washer dryers can breakdown
And make a lady frown.

I've got someone coming to fix it
(We have our washer dryer insured),
I should really get a new one but it's been really rather good...
It's always washed away the stains of fancy food.

Fellow launderer please understand -
as you look rather tough -
I won't judge you if you don't judge,
So let us wash our clothes in unspoken harmony
And make my inconvenience as unawkward as it can be.

But to my shame my snobbish mind assumes the worst;
That every rushing washer
Is thrusting clothes into the machines hurriedly,
Because they've all been on a killing spree.

Now the drying is almost done,
I can leave you with your dreary woes of working life and sleepless nights,
And go right home to dispose of that gun.

You, the unlucky ones, not cared for in your early years,
Your resilience fails to blossom like the lucky ones
Who know little of your pains and fears
But ask what you would do if you had a magic wand
As if that will provide them with solutions to you, the problem.

 “Why us? Why no normal boring ****?”
The miraculous odds that you were conceived
Offset by the misfortune of love unfit,
A birth with much promise but ultimately deceived,
To fend for yourselves like moths and butterflies.

Trust takes time and is quid pro quo,
You need lessons in attachment and love,
But this is something that most adults don’t know.
Instead they humour you or treat you with kid gloves,
Meaning that your adolescence is a bitter surprise
When you’re no longer the person they can infantilise.

She cared for no one,
Stood tall and aloof like a single poppy,
Resisting the wind and rain
As she stood on the lawn of asphalt.

Around her she surveyed the weeds of the city,
The fake trees of the city,
The smoggy air of the concrete forest,
All choking and stifling her future.

Not for her this poisonous place
This ****** city,
This filthy forest of stone and metal.
Her kind need space and freedom.

For her kind are flowers that grow alone.
No one understands them.
They have no empathy.
They have no moving parts.