Come Day Go Day
Another birthday comes
& pushes me even further
over the hill
iil
unwell
(sick of being sick)
pushing this bloody boulder
like Sysiphus up the bloody hill
yet the touch
of your hand
makes me young
& willing
make me so glad
to be
a man
with you
my woman.
poem by Dónall Dempsey

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Related quotes
Foolish Toils?
Greek Mythology tells us about a man named Sysiphus
Who was handed a seemingly worthless task.
Rolling a huge rock to the top of a hill,
Only to watch it roll down the other side...
I say to you - Sysiphus truly lived!
For unkike the man who sits beside the hill-
Watching Sysiphus and laughing
At his seemingly worthless toils...
Sysiphus lived a full life!
Sysiphus tasted victory at every summit!
And at that summit he beheld sights like no other man!
And even as his grip on that rock gave way -
Sysiphus won the greatest prize!
For the pain of that moment taught him strength...
Strength to never give up
Strength to take hold of that rock
And the strength to try again!
poem by Clint Warren Stanton

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A January Fear
A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
My class is all here
Down to each little sneer
A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
Those cute little creatures
Have nothing to fear
A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
Still knowing that teacher's
not entirely all here
A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
Each little tear
Makes it perfectly clear
A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
A day off is coming
And hopefully near
a sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
It's harder and harder
Maintaining my leer
A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
Perhaps my behavior's
becoming quite queer
A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
Perhaps in the morning
I'll call in and cheer
A SICK DAY A SICK DAY
I GOT A PAIN IN MY EAR
Alas...I can hear my principle sneer
With a resigning smirk easy to hear
NO SICK DAY NO SICK DAY
SORRY MY DEAR
NO SICK DAYS NO SICK DAYS
REMAINING THIS YEAR
poem by Robert John Meehan

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Bloody Luxury
(coverdale)
Now when I first met you
I was rolling along,
Just a bar room crooner
Singing heartbreak songs,
An I supposed I could never get next to you
But, you seemed quite happy with my company
You kept my body heat steady at 103,
With your mouth full of gimme
An your body full of much obliged
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
What you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury...
Youre a five star woman,
An you know what to give
To fill a part time loser
Full of reasons to live,
But, theres no doubt about it
Im taking a chance on you
Becos you get my heart beating heavy,
Make my knees go weak
You get me so damn nervous
I can hardly speak,
But, nothings gonna stop me
Hanging on my good luck charm
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
What you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury...
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
Honey what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
Honey what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me,
No matter what you do to me,
No matter what you do to me,
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury
Bloody luxury...
song performed by by Whitesnake

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hit With Shame
hit with shame like losing my game
swollen lips are singing my name
tears are hot and drumming like rain
i’ve had it enough
had it enough
hit with shame like writhing with pain
every word’s proclaiming my blame
every effort turns out lame
i’m sick of that stuff
sick of that stuff
ask for nothing else you say
it’s your fault
you have to pay
for every day
for every day
for every bloody single day
hit with shame and hit with disdain
every move’s increasing the strain
every flower adds to the chain
i cannot go on
cannot go on
hit with shame like hit on my brain
feel as if I’m watching a play
think I’m gonna give it away
i’m sick of it all
sick of it all
this is what you get you say
it’s your guilt
and don’t complain
you must pay
you must pay
for every bloody single day
poem by Max Kuvaev

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Sick And Tired
Im sick of pretending its all perfect
Tired of living a lie
Sick of loving you
Tired of the tears I cry
Im sick of giving you my love
Tired of getting nothing in return
Sick of all your other girls
Tired of being unable to learn
Im sick of running back to you
Tired of returning hurt
Sick of been laughed about
Tired of being treated like dirt
Im sick of living this life
Tired of being blue
Sick of thoughts about giving up
Tired of the stupid things I do
Im so sick of it all
So sick Im going do it
So tired of been stuck in the middle
So tired Im going to quit
Im sick
im sick of not knowing,
im sick of not showing,
im sick of all the starring
im sick of not caring
im sick of being labled bad
im sick of always looking sad
im sick of feeling locked in bars
im sick of all the painful scars
im sick of all the thugs
im sick of all the drugs
im sick of asking myself why
im sick of telling myself i want to die
im sick of feeling like i always want to cry
im sick of living a lie
im sick of not having a dream
im sick of lifes borring theme
but thares only one was out...
so what does that mean?
poem by Malorie Genoff

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So Sick
im sick of not knowing,
im sick of not showing,
im sick of all the starring
im sick of not caring
im sick of being labled bad
im sick of always looking sad
im sick of feeling locked in bars
im sick of all the painful scars
im sick of all the thugs
im sick of all the drugs
im sick of asking myself why
im sick of telling myself i want to die
im sick of feeling like i always want to cry
im sick of living a lie
im sick of not having a dream
im sick of lifes borring theme
but thares only one was out...
so what does that mean?
poem by Ricky Baker

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Sick of Being Sick
I’m sick of being rejected;
I’m sick of being emotionally neglected;
I’m sick of crying so many tears;
I’m sick of running away from my fears;
I’m sick of my childhood nightmares;
I’m sick of being told to do those stupid dares;
I’m sick of not having friends;
I’m sick of all these dead ends;
I’m sick of myself for what I’ve become;
I’m sick of feeling oh so numb;
I’m sick of watching myself drown;
I’m sick of my heart falling to the ground;
I’m sick of this life;
I’m sick of this everyday strife;
I’m sick of not having a dad;
I’m sick of getting mad;
I’m sick of my childhood past;
I’m sick of being harassed;
I’m sick of the dread;
I’m sick of wanting to be dead;
I’m sick of being the one who’s always so strong;
I’m sick of being somebody that doesn’t belong! !
poem by Shelby Brockway

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Irritating Sky
The sky is always changing –
Can't it settle down?
Shades of blue, then reddy hue,
Puffs of grey and white;
And then it's bloody night!
At least I see a smattering
Of twinkly little things,
A silver globe occasionally
Which admittedly it brings
A sort of pleasant feeling,
Warming to the soul,
But overall it's so annoying –
Irritatingly droll!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Sky sky bloody sky, bloody sky sky
Sky sky bloody sky, sky bloody sky
Sky bloody sky bloody sky sky sky
Sky bloody sky bloody sky sky sky
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Ganenkejk
When I was just a little boy
I really longed to have a gun
but when I said to my mum
I saw she wouldn't buy me one
But my young mind would not forget
and so I couldn't just give up
that night when all was still and quiet
I went and stole my money box
Oh bloody gun ...
I smashed the pig I bought a gun
my mama said now no more cake ...
for your birthday no cake
when I was just a little boy
my goals were surely well defined
and what I saw was what I got
and I just saw that bloody gun
What a delusion ...
I fell for passion ...
Oh bloody gun ...
I smashed
song performed by by Zmelkoow

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Carrot & Stick
So, Greece is out of money?
It'd make you sick,
It makes me sick.
Now Germany is supposed to pay
For the rich man's honey?
It'd make you sick,
It makes me sick.
The rich men get the carrots,
The poor men get the stick!
It makes me sick!
poem by Neil Milliner

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I Am Sick....
I am sick …. The pain I feel.
I am sick…. This must be surreal.
I am sick…. I will not die.
I am sick…. But I must live on with this lie.
I am sick…. It’s not like cancer it’s not that bad.
I am sick… but the say depression goes with this pain I have.
I am sick…. It will never disappear.
I am sick…. My days will go on with the same o’l tear.
I am sick…. That I have thought of taking my pain away.
I am sick…. For that I cannot for the pain must stay.
I am sick… and no one can fix me.
I am sick…. That no one can see.
I am sick…. They believe nothing is wrong with me.
I am sick…. Because of this disease.
I am sick…. Because I beg god please.
poem by Winifred Harkness

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Sick I Am...
i am sick...please don`t be sad...
i am sick...please don`t tell anyone...
i am sick...please forgive me if i hurt you...
i am sick...going so faraway from here...
i am sick...saying this only for you...
i am sick...maybe will never come back...
i am sick...remember me and never forget me...
i am sick...pray for me and wish me all best what you can...
i am sick...all wounds i have inside my heart...
i am sick...please don`t be sad...
i am sick... and you will never see me..
poem by Hazem Al Jaber

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It Makes Me Sick
It makes me sick
to think it was all a lie.
It makes me sick
knowing it was all fake.
It makes me sick
looking at you.
It makes me sick
thinking of you.
You make me sick.
poem by Haley Smith

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Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.
song performed by by Yoko Ono

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.
song performed by by Yoko Ono

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We spend our lives fighting to get people very slightly more stupid than ourselves to accept truths that the great men have always known. They have known for thousands of years that to lock a sick person into solitary confinement makes him worse. They have known for thousands of years that a poor man who is frightened of his landlord and of the police is a slave. They have known it. We know it. … You and I are the boulder-pushers. All our lives, you and I, we’ll put all our energies, all our talents into pushing a great boulder up a mountain. The boulder is the truth that the great men know by instinct, and the mountain is the stupidity of mankind.
quote by Doris Lessing

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sick and Tired
Im sick and tired of the lies you told me.
Sick and tired of what you want me to be.
Sick and tired of the way we live.
Sick and tired Im in such a dread.
Sick and tired I want to go to sleep.
Yea so sick and tired it makes me weak.
Sick and tired dont wanna be me.
Sick and tired of no harmony.
Day aftrer day you just come out and say...
'Tomorrow will be a better day'
Well Im sick and tired of that over used phrase.
So sick and tired of the way you dont change.
Sick and tired I wanna go home.
Oh so sick and tired dont know where I belong.
Sick and tired of not getting along.
So sick and tired, thats it, Im gone.
poem by Ebony Tesfay

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Sicckk
sick of it..
im so sick of it
im sick of waking up in the morning.
im sick of you saying im nothing,
im sick of you calling me down.
im sick of you drinking all the time. |
im sick of you blaming everything on meh.
im sick of you
im sick of this
im sick of everything..
but must of all your the one im sick of..
i relise your the reson for my pain...
sorry mom..
its time for me to goo..
poem by Cheylayna Bear

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More Than Just A Fight
We fought,
It hurt,
He's mad,
I'm sad,
Don't know what it was about,
He wont tell me,
Expects me to understand,
Without telling me why,
Ive tried,
Cant understand,
It just makes me feel like crying,
Ive cried so much,
Its slowly tearing me apart,
I'm sick of it all,
Sick of avoiding and being avoided,
Sick of pretending that I'm okay,
Sick of complaining,
Sick of laughing when all I wanna do is cry,
Sick of tryin to be strong,
Sick of being so weak,
Sick of caring,
Sick of fighting,
Sick of crying,
Sick of trying,
Sick of it all,
I wonder,
Wonder when I lost him,
Wonder why,
Wonder how this mess started,
Wonder when it will end,
Wonder if the friendship will survive this,
Wonder if Ill survive this,
He says I'm clingy,
Says I talk too much,
Says I need to get a boyfriend,
Says I need to leave him alone,
Says he doesn't care that it hurts me,
I say he's changed,
He says he hasn't.
poem by Mandy Author2

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