Mark Heathcote

Is there seated a Damien angel? About my shoulders or nape, contour. Must he be so petulantly-pushy? As to sadly knock me to the floor Will he be my only advocate?

Once when I cried for freedom For freedoms ancient sleep I lay on my bed in my kingdom Feeling sad so sad and bleak. Once when I laughed the world laughed too And so my one true love did you;