Michael Finnegan

There was an old man called Michael Finnegan He grew whiskers on his chinigin, the wind came along and blew them in again, poor old Michael Finnegan, begin again...

My Brother Is

i try and avoid poetry but every so often i try again...

I shouldn't have to break these bonds.

I shouldn't have to break these bonds This negativity shouldn't be here I've lost freedom and i didn't have to I won't look for it I just have to hope next time I don't lose it

Spare me

To what end hedonism? A sticky one, I'm sure. But it's fun getting there. Old age is a pretty nasty thing to die of.

The Light

Somewhere, something holds my gaze. It draws me. Shining, like a beacon through time, through swirling dust. It guides me. Through banality, vulgarity,
Cherry

Killing Time

(Edit 24/6/2011) After he...left, they told me – ‘Keep occupied...start writing...
Gold cherry

Let's Start Again

Competition Entry

I

really, really not sure.

Plan 9

"Why are you doing this to me?" Derek asked. "Because I like to. I like to find out what people are." "It can't just be curiosity." "It is." "You're not going to tell anyone, are you?"

Scared to death

The painful awkwardness of those who care.
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