Each page appears to be more or less independent, commenting upon some emotion, thought or event. But the pages knit into a somewhat cohesive whole, with themes carried on into later poems. I'm sure I've probably intended to carry on further, but the experiment was eventually forgotten and buried, as tends to happen with projects like these.
While much of the material is quite personal (some even obscure, in fact, although I think I get what most of it is about), there are a few segments in the latter half which appear to be a reaction to the 7/7 London bombings. (And in a strange bit of convenient timing, the attack is just today in the news again, with reports about the findings of an inquest into it.)
Of course most of it's hardly among the greatest poetry ever written, but I still decided to type it up and post online. You can find the text here, if you wish.