Martin was a savvy bloke, He worked hard and drank much beer. He didn’t talk too much, And rather liked Shakespeare. One warm day he decided, To go into the woods for a walk. He didn’t get to far though For a voice began to talk. It told him to survive, He would require many things. A gun, ammunition, matches and a jackknife, Was what he should bring. Dutifully Martin did comply, And set out singing his merry song, Unfortunately the noise drowned out the sound, Of the bear which just happened to come rushing along.
I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out...
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