Blogging ain’t cathartic!

Blogging ain’t cathartic

Or so it seems to me

It just becomes @ chore

It doesn’t set me free.

I’d like someone to read it

Review it, good or bad,

But nobody will look at it

So writing makes me sad.

Perhaps I’m just not very good

My standards not that high

Better bloggers do exist out there

That’s why they pass me by.

I think I’ve written well, at times

On topics, sometimes dark

I’ve tried to illustrate, my life

Is no walk in the park.

I’ve written about my travels

All the places that I’ve seen

I’ve written about some good times

And when others have been mean.

I’ve given my perspective

My Autistic point of view

And, at heart, I’ve tried my best

To interest all of you.

But nobody now reads me

If I blog, nobody cares,

I really tried to do some good,

In the hope of likes and shares.

I’ve fought for the community

Against the haters that exist

But sadly come to realise

My writings won’t be missed.

I just don’t have the influence

Taken seriously, I’m not

I’m not an academic,

Qualifications not a lot.

I’m just an ordinary guy

Who tried to just be nice

But it’s hard when no one cares

And nobody looks twice.

Perhaps I could have been someone,

Someone with a valid view

Somebody worth knowing

But now, sadly I’m through.

My time on here has run its course

It’s time for me to fly

This is it, full stop, the end,

It’s time for me to die.

So, if you’ve ever read this blog,

I give my thanks to you

I hope it gave you pleasure

And some of it rang true.

Well, this is it, goodbye my friends,

My time here’s at an end,

Thank you once again my friends,

Much love, to you, I send.

When the well runs dry

When the well runs dry,

I think I’d rather die,

Than face another day,

Like the one that came my way!

Less than thirty on the clock,

Something hit me like a rock,

To the head, it bashed,

And like a storm it lashed,

Simple email, message said,

Well what it said,

Filled me with dread,

Already tired,

Just worn out,

I didn’t scream (I gave a shout)

Disbelief, anger, rage,

Filled with loathing, at the page,

Head shakes and eyes,

Water, tears,

Another one of many fears,

A person whose support I need,

And who failed miserably at deed,

Whose betrayal keenly felt,

Has a glorious hand been dealt,

That same hand stabbed me in back,

But there they are,

Right on track,

A place on high, an elevation,

Whilst I must live,

Die in frustration,

So unjust, so unfair,

How could they, did they,

Put them there ?

No competition, nothing raised,

Apart from them,

Then hugely praised,

Fawning colleagues,


But, for me, it’s now too late,

I’m hurt, I’m sad, and now I’m weeping,

Yet more cause, to stop me sleeping,

So undeserved, so cruelly done,

But yet I feel I’m just the one,

Who sees injustice in decision,

But why speak out,

And face derision,

Shouldn’t have happened,

No, not at all,

But as they rise,

Then I must fall,

So, and when the well runs dry,

Another piece of me just died.