It's a funny old world

Step into a world where the exhaustion of the early morning commute collides with the electric, untamed pulse of memory and desire. A Trio of Verse and Mind weaves together three distinct poetic movements into a singular, emotional voyage.

Begin in the quiet, reluctant hours of dawn with the heavy pull of duty and the mundane grind; drift outward through the bittersweet reflections on youth, loss, and the "brilliant lunatics" who shape our lives; and finally, arrive at a rare and electric convergence—a meeting of minds, hearts, and raw, unfiltered humanity.

Candid, witty, vulnerable, and deeply resonant, this collection explores what it means to be tired of the world, yet utterly electrified by the presence of another. It’s a funny old world, after all—and these pages capture its every contradiction.

Part I: The Daily Grind

How did I end up here?

I don’t know.

This is what I do know:

I wake up.

It's four in the morning,

I stretch, I yawn,

I squint my eyes

and glare at the moon.

Its beauty should be a delight,

but I'm just not feeling right.

Is it time to get up?

Surely it’s too soon.

I curl up tight, pull the covers over my head,

think I'm going to stay in bed,

going back to sleep again,

if that’s alright with you.

Well, no, it’s not all right.

You have to get up and go to work;

you owe, you owe, you have to go,

you have to see it through.

This is what you've signed up to.

I stumble out of bed,

shower in the naked truth.

Life has put me in a right spin,

the water hits my skin,

soaked through and through.

What else can I do?

I owe, I owe, I have to go.

Outside and on my way,

I’m not sure if I can do another day.

I've got the blues,

beginning to think,

all hope has gone.

Part II: Beautiful Idiots & Brilliant Lunatics

This one’s for the good guys.

I’ll give it my best shot.

My heart is true with thoughts so blue.

You could come back as a shadow — or a dream.

We were once young.

We were once free.

We were once reckless.

We were once lovers,

with no reason to explain.

A nervous energy tears through my veins.

I’ve lived carelessly all the same,

in a world where no one’s truly to blame.

I want to step outside,

but I fear we will collide.

Sharing my verse, sharing my curse,

I just keep on living.

They say it’s a good life

if you’re lucky enough to get one.

In this lottery called life —

who the fuck are they?

What could be worse

than a tragic poet?

I’d like to be happier.

I’d like to be calmer.

I’d like to be sane,

not a lunatic in a world of the insane.

The dead are not dead until they are forgotten,

even though their days no longer feel real.

This one is for the good guys,

those Beautiful Idiots

and those Brilliant Lunatics

who have passed through — but are remembered still

by you and I.

Part III: A Meeting of the Minds

Two minds in sync, an uncanny link—

one single thought by two minds caught.

This bond refuses to break, touched, right from the very first wake.

Two minds crossing paths.

They share the same values, beliefs, and prayers,

drawn together with aching hearts that are not theirs to depart.

Precious times for the meeting of the minds.

How I wish we’d met before time turned unfair,

before duty came, and others claimed our care.

A drowsy ache, a quiet, sharp regret:

your beauty shines-never forget that,

but it is your mind that moves me most,

far more than any outward grace or boast.

Two minds.

One spark.

A single thought split in half

and carried by both—

uncanny, electric,

like fate playing tricks

in the dark.

And I wonder—

always wonder—

what could have been:

heaven-sent, this meeting of minds,

and you—what we might have been.

Then I think of you with no clothes on….

And Suddenly, 

I'm right back on song.

It's a funny old world.