It’s where it all began for me
Sat on sofa hand on knee
Resting a room temperature whiskey.
Can’t you feel the spark from my eyes?
As I look at old photographs
I realize a part of me dies… Yearly.
Taking a breath and a sip.
Resting my hand now gently on your hip.
Oh if only people new what it would mean .
To see their reflection in the blackened colour of an off television screen.
As I look at mine now.
Have I gone a little crazy?
A thought rings clear.
Then my old smile returns and I realize that maybe land is really near.
I guess this would be the most personal I could get.
But in the morning I think this was shit and delete it without regret.
So here I ll stay framed by plastic the colour of grey.
I hope somebody understands.

The End
A. Poet.


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