What do you do when you can’t find your smile and you look to the floor and you stare for a while and your poems sound like paper and your cheese tastes like bread, tap your foot for the demons that dance in your head. And you can’t find the light that shines out of your soul because you sold it for diamonds that you put in a hole, and your spade it got broken and covered in rust so you buried that too while your head it went bust. And you reached for a stars and you fell on a balloon that made funny noises and went down too soon, so you tumbled and struggled and gasping for air, composed a concoction that took you nowhere, and you cried as you fell and you called for your neighbour but your cries they bounced back in a dark echo chamber.  You reached for your God and was handed a prize, they said draw him yourself, but you smudged up his eyes. 

So what do you do when you can’t find your smile and you look to the floor and you stare for a while?   Find a friend, have a chat or a great big long walk, find a place that’s got trees in and go for a talk, have a pint, paint a painting, maybe sleep with your ex.  (That last one don’t work but it’s a trick I know best).  Take yourself from the drama and have a good sleep, know that laughing is priceless but it’s perfect to weep, stop spinning bad thoughts like they’re gold on a wheel, Rumpelstiltskin will find you and happiness steal, most of all when you’re stuck and your down on your luck, just get comfy in darkness and not give a fuck, because the tides they are changing they do that each day, you’ll come back on the same waves that took you away.

Ged Thompson