My Old Friend

My old friend

Something leaning on my shoulder
Too heavy now...
Always has been.

The picture on the screen is clear
Trickling down in hot red tears
Burning like a rusted pin

Broken bottles take them now
into the recycling bin
Throw them in
Throw them in.

Remove all of the mess,
the rags and plates and cups and things
Out with the old
Always has been

Bits of paper, words and faces, coats and shoes
Paper and string
Just like it’s never been

And the weight upon my shoulder
And the clarity, sharp clarity
Like a knife edge
Driving in.

Driving in
Driving in
Driving in
Just to see how you are doing
My old friend.