Sunday, September 29, 2013

Arrows

Darkness seems to call
In the shadows
Of the baby angel's arrow
Where reality
Plays cruel tricks
On those barely alive
Pulling at the arrows
Sticking out of their chests
Making it hard
To breath....

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

2013/10/31


They say he lost himself
In a bottle
So each time I see him
I buy him one
Hoping that
He can drink
Enough of himself back
For me to recognise him
Because The shell
I see before me
Is not the man
I used to call
my Uncle