The stones

I feel like a stone in the shore here once there was one but now there is more, The feeling of glee surrounds the unbreakable tree and falling of hope raises its mask to get a glance at the world in h

I want my innocence back

To walk around this agonizing corner and see the one who once was me was a far cry for fury I can not be decived.

World at your fingertips

My hearts at a low it falls to short to feel anything at all.
Cherry

Here With Her

I could wake Here Every morning Not this room, Not this drive Or even this town - I could wake Here Every morning Under this sun Next to her This beautiful girl.

Her Fire

I have drawn my death one thousand times. I have never written it, So I continue to breath, But breathing brings thought And thought is like the fire – A common mistake

Hands Alone

The ring finger has always been the most sensitive, It searches for hairs grown backwards & thin, It carries promise, Sometimes an honor – Other times a curse.

Thank You!

Thank you so much!

A QUESTION IN THE HOUSE 1980

The question had been asked and the answer given. "How many people have died in police custody since 1970?"

The Visit

Accents - they can be a funny thing and completely change a meaning as we see here.

THOUGHTS ON SCHOOL EXAMINATIONS

Alone in the church hall, silence until the rush of traffic resumes Here they sit, rows of pupils attended by rulers, pens, string and thoughts

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