Three Storeys Up

Three storeys up,
I'm smoking my lungs black,
And the sloping roof
Gets lower every day,
The wallpaper’s peeling.

I’m coming to terms
With loathsome clocks,
Rolling slowly forward,
While I’m pining over
My impossible desire

Of taking two steps back
Into the sunshine,
Which used to burn
Me with passion
In the shape of a destiny

That might satisfy me.