Still I am, so still, so quiet
So unknowing, rarely showing – my wicked sides
So different, you won’t get me by mere sight – sniff me out or take a bite
Be you a doctor of Body, of Mind or Soul
Try to understand you fool, you believer in black and white
It wont get you any closer to the truth
Good luck to you
I will prevail in the everlasting shades of gray
If it was up to me I’d
lock you up – briefly
Be cared for by those
in the know – safely
Shielded from the net
and self-diagnostics
Refocusing thoughts
ending worries – truly
If it was up to me I’d
lock you up – already
It is not up to me
but I may hold the
key to your
freedom
I cherish my six-pack so
I’ve hidden it below a
suitable layer of fat. I
hope you love me
anyway.
I keep feeding it pizza and
beer just to make sure it
doesn’t reveal itself unnecessarily. I
hope you love me
anyway.
I said I’d lock you up – briefly
and retain the key. I
hope you love me
anyway.
Maybe we’ll never meet
again, who knows, perhaps. I
hope you love me
anyway.
The days are still getting
longer but soon the tide
will turn with the leafs
falling golden and
I don’t feel guilt but I
hope you love me
anyway.
Would it have been easier
growing up in a country
where parents depriving
their children of
love and kindness could
face ten years behind bars?
Would you have tried harder
to learn and understand
the needs of those
not yet protected by
armours and walls?
Would you have
not recorded a child in
distress and later
not replayed said recording
to the child causing even
more distress?
Would you perhaps have
considered positive feedback
and praise of the attempts
made to perform and to
please?
Would you have recognised
that they spending days and
nights in their rooms
might not aid their
developments of social
skills?
Would you have been bit more relaxed and let them get on growing up
doing whatever they
wanted to do?
Would you have coped
bringing up your children in
a country where you faced
ten years behind bars as
you deprive them of
love and kindness?
Probably not.
not me: she looks well
me: yes not me: she seems happier now me: yes not me: do you know why? me: he’s dead so she’s got space to liveIt matters to me
not
as tears to broken hearts
bleeding silently
leaving traces of
void and unfulfilled
promises
It matters to me
not
as silk on silk
spooning hard
wet skin on skin and
nights in
ecstasy
It matters to me
not
as full moons on
cloud free nights
scattered stars
high above
It matters to me
as dreams
pass by
new days arise
and this is all
that remain
I applaud thee
pretenders in
shadows lurking
creating your
persona seconda
at will, effortless
without
commandeering
believable by
most but
still not true
to heart, the
beating heart
in you is not
but
I applaud thee
for keeping it
up
Bring me pills to
cherish laughter
dance on ice
shouting – roller coaster!
spin and flick through
glossy adverts
pretending life is
good as gold.
As days grow longer and
the darkness recede,
life returning to
gardens asleep,
cover me with kisses
from roses and tulip
cover me with blankets of
love’s abiding truth
