We Are Winning


Maybe paper was something
We invented to replace us
At the top of the food chain:
Every line of teen angst,
The signature on
The note that reads “I’m sorry”,
All eating a little bit
Of us at a time,
An addiction to us,
Sipping as we bleed
Between the lines.

The paper both loves and
Hates us,
Giving back exactly what
We feed it;
Chewing over our microwavable

Printing ourselves in the menu
Is to know the customer,
And if to know them is to love them,
How can familiarity breed contempt?

But nothing’s easier to erase
Than an HB pencil,
The sheet’s still smeared,
Scratched, scars running
In valleys through the
The teeth that bit our
Graphite nails.

We’re dragging our blunt fingers
Over the wall,
Desperately trying to claw
Our last proclamation:

“We are winning.”


About DickensianJack

Born in Wolverhampton in November '93, moved to Huddersfield in September 2012. Studying at the University of Huddersfield. In love with the town - simple as that. As for the blog itself, I've been doing bits and pieces of writing (with varying quality) for a few years. A friend suggested I start a blog to share my work. Most of the stuff on here is poems, but there's other work interspersed on the page. Feel free to leave any comments on my work. Twitter: @DickensianJack (Jack Dickens) Facebook: www.facebook.com/dickensianjack Cheers, enjoy.
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