August 2024
Writing Words. A Worry
26/08/24 14:31
Writing Words. A Worry.
I'm writing words which may bloom into a poem or a song
But most likely they will end as a trash
But maybe if printed those words could decay to mulch and feed a perfect flower
More likely it will help a weed, to destroy what lived before.
Rotting words to kill what already lived.
Writing words with the handbrake off. It’s always been a worry.
This here page is destined to feed the weeds again. I am sorry.
I'm writing words which may bloom into a poem or a song
But most likely they will end as a trash
But maybe if printed those words could decay to mulch and feed a perfect flower
More likely it will help a weed, to destroy what lived before.
Rotting words to kill what already lived.
Writing words with the handbrake off. It’s always been a worry.
This here page is destined to feed the weeds again. I am sorry.
The Bruise That Never Fades
26/08/24 14:30
The Bruise
You left me scarred with a bruise that never fades
Left me in the gutter hidden in the shade
You told me that you loved me once, then said that was a lie
That you were just filling time and I was just a lay
Wrong time, wrong place, right face; wrong woman.
And now that bruise wont heal
Your legacy a war crime,
When you just walked away
Your legacy a war crime and this bruise that never fades.
You left me scarred with a bruise that never fades
Left me in the gutter hidden in the shade
You told me that you loved me once, then said that was a lie
That you were just filling time and I was just a lay
Wrong time, wrong place, right face; wrong woman.
And now that bruise wont heal
Your legacy a war crime,
When you just walked away
Your legacy a war crime and this bruise that never fades.