Everyone,
all of us of course.
For how long
no-one notices.
Mummy,
thats me isn't it?
7 years on
it is still alien.
You,
that was me also.
15 years endured
forgiveness eludes.
Her,
isn't me, but
15 years long
and I wont forget.
Sitting here watching Ester.
God, what a load of crap,
there's a bloke acting like a total prat
saying women are ugly when fat.
Come and save me from this fate,
of TV, rice pudding and paint.
Talk to me and help me to feel
daytime need not make me feel so faint.
Here I'll finish this little poem
and return to life as a ...
couch!
As the sun rises
its beams lick the moon.
I rest here and think of you,
bridging the gap.
I imagine what you may be doing
what you are thinking.
Is it the same as me...
perhaps.