The Grinder

The Grinder

Verse 1

Larger than life

He fills up the room

He cuts like knife

Sweeps like a broom

He’s already taken

She is already smitten

This is a tragedy

Too big to be written

Verse 2

I stabbed him

With an icicle

Through the heart

Flattened the tires

On his Christmas

Bicycle

I am beginning

To heal

It’s a start

Verse 3

Any evidence

Melted away

In my hands

This brilliant life

Is a game of Chance

And handstands

Short stories

Can take too long

For along winded writer

To write

Verse 4

The isolation

Of a runner’s high

This neck of medals

Can’t be denied

By anyone

Or anything

My admiration

Goes long into the night

Chorus

The road is long

This road is winding

It twists and it turns

I am grinding

Out a result

When everyone else

Is sunning themselves

On the Spanish Riviera