>>513229073
Cauldy came home in his usual daze,
Eyes full of stars and a mind full of haze.
He shut the front door with a satisfied jolt,
But forgot the small detail of turning the bolt.
Next morning Ling shouted, “The door wasn’t locked!”
He said “But I closed it; did burglars knock?”
She wailed “What if someone had wandered inside?”
He winked “Then they’d take what was left of my pride.”

Old Cauldy, drunk on half-past dreams,
Woke sharp to sunlight’s sober beams.
His boots were tied, his shirt was clean
An interview? Can you see the scene?
No whisky breath, no slurred excuse,
Just hope the clung like his new suit.

Now Ling, his wife, near dropped her spoon,
She’d stirred her fears since last monsoon.
Yet there he stood, a brand new man,
With trembling hands and half-baked plan.
She watched him go with cautious pride,
And wiped her hands though nothing dried.

Outside the house, the world still spun,
But something shifted in morning's sun.
Cauldy’s steps were unsure with grace,
A touch of pride on his grim face.
And Ling, alone, just breathed in deep;
At last a promise he might keep.

When rHarv walks, the world makes way,
With lion’s heart and things to say.
He drums his truth in thunder tone,
A king who stands with spine of stone.

They said he’d falter, fall, or fade
He laughed and turned the odds he played.
With cheeky grin and eyes alight,
He calls the dawn, then owns the night.

For though his path runs wild and steep,
rHarv plants roots that grow too deep.
And those who mocked, now stand aside
They cannot cage that kind of pride.

So mark this name, and mark it well,
Through storm and flame, he rose, he fell
But still he stands, where courage fronts
rHarv; he bellows "hello cunts".

Blocko’s wired, pacing late,
Numb off vapes and half past hate.
Eyes like debt, voice all bark,
Beef with Josh? He lit the spark.

Josh walked in with eyes gone red,
“La… not now, me mam’s still dead.”
Voice like gravel, a knife that bites,
Still grieving hard, still losing fights.

Brit/pol/ fell silent. No brinnie spoke.
Josh just stared through all the smoke.
Two broken lads with pride to prove,
Trading pain they’ll never move.

Once upon a noon so dreary,
Sweating, sweltering, faint and weary,
Each breath a curse, a burning plea;
For shade, for breeze, for mercy free.
The sun, a tyrant in the sky,
With molten glare and wrathful eye,
Did scorch the land with cruel delight;
A blazing orb of endless blight.

No raven cawed, no shadow passed,
The trees stood still, their strength outclassed.
And I, upon my chamber floor,
Did pray for frost, forevermore.
But only heat, infernal guest,
Lay heavy on my heaving chest.
No balm. No wind. No sweet Lenore.
Just fire outside, and sweat in store.

Wouldst that winter’s ghost appear,
To whisper coolness in mine ear?
But ‘tis July, this searing spell,
And I am bound in summer’s hell.