Ever on the outside, always looking in.often wishing I could wear someone else’s skin. Ever on the outside, checking every word,cautious anything I say, might easily be misheard. Ever on the outside, painting out my frown,an imposter who will act again, as the circus clown. Ever on the outside, so nobody will see,the fears, theContinue reading “Ever on the Outside”
I am me,but who am I?Cogito ergo sum.Descartes surmised,but never explained,what happens to mewhen I am done?
She told them he was hurting,but nobody heard her cryShe said that she was leaving,but nobody asked her why. Her fears concealed.Her voice unheard.Lost amidst cloudsof empty words. She told them she was going,but nobody heard her cry.Nobody listened to her,and now they don’t know why.
A sun-warm breeze caressed our world,leaves bickered on branches high above.Crisp cotton clothed your burnished skin,that day in the sun, I fell in love. We walked together, through the parka love that burnt so fierce, so fast.I never spoke, you never knew,One day in the sun, that summer past.
Carefully cockledLeaves sealed in swollen budsAwait winter’s end
Chocolate, caramel,Cornish cream teas?Carrots and cucumber, lettuce and peas? Such foods divide the saint and the sinner.You are what you eat, I’ve got pasta for dinner.
They walk together in the parkat three fifteen each day.Miss Chatham and Euphorbiaquietly make their way.One loved in life, one never held,both showing time’s decay Some note quietly, as they pass,this singular mismatched pair.The lady clothed in Sunday bestand her friend’s wild wispy hair.Both alone, but twinned for life,Miss Chatham and her teddy bear.
She holds a distant memoryof when a heartbeat matched her own.A summer secret locked inside,a child barely known. A small, now faded picture holds,a truth in grey and white.A daughter held for one short day,one silent tear-torn night. To give a life, to hold a lifeto bear but never see,the future that the world might hold,for theContinue reading “For Adoption”
You left cold sheets one side of our bedA book laying open, partly readSilences, where once we talkedGrass now growing, where once we walked You left a picture of when life was brightThe shape of your body when I held you tightYour touch, your laughter, your every wayThe colour you cast on the greyest dayContinue reading “You left”
There is no point in travelling, when you’ve no place to be. No sense in searching, when your heart cannot see. And no doors will unlock, when you don’t have a key. There is no point in sowing, where love cannot grow. No questions worth asking, of a life you can’t know. And no reasonContinue reading “There’s No Point”