Rain falling at midnight.
Clock strikes thirteen.
Speaking of love.
Speaks verbatim.
Says as is believed.
What she's wanting to hear.

She is his treasure.
He keeps her locked in a passion ***.
Smokes a pipe, of you know what.
He puffs cos he's loving it.
Keeps him all mellow.
Inside his blood runs a strange shade of yellow.
No choice of his own, red streaked with terror.

He reaches his pint.
It helps him forget.
That war experience making him wretched.
Clumsy and hopeless.

His love here lays dormant.
He so wants to love her.
Sadly he can't.

A victim from Nam.
Iraq and Japan.
Wars won and two.
He can't love you.
Or her or anyone else.
He is the sad hero who can't love himself.

His war is over now.
He drifts off to sleep.
Dream lady lover.
Please don't cha weep.
(c)Livvi