The product I’m selling,
Is worthless at heart,
Woefully useless,
And broken in part.

Born obsolete,
It wouldn’t be missed,
It’s our first ever product,
To not want to exist.

I’m taking all offers,
We could burn it together,
It’s on sale right now,
As it has been forever.

It offers you nothing,
And offers me less,
I’ll throw it away,
And put me to rest.



Two sides of a card,

the coward, the liar,

too scared to seek,

what he does not desire.


He’ll think of a thousand,

excuses, defences,

they’ve just broken up,

or her other ‘offences’.


They’ll walk for a while,

sometimes in silence,

and he’ll hold his breath,

for an act of defiance.


But she gets her train,

and he gets his,

if romance was agony,

then friendship is bliss.

The Knowledge Argument

The knowledge argument. The line of reasoning that there exists knowledge that can only be gained through personal experience. The presumption that reading every book about colour ever written, as insightful an experience as that would be, would still leave you without the final piece. That oh-so important last piece of the puzzle that could only be attained through seeing colour yourself.

With this thought in hand, and an empty rifle by my feet, I ask you Sir; what is death, truly? Will we ever know?