Another dawn these eyes have seen,
Do you really have to leave?
Why are you so keen?
Didn't you like it here?  

Too late too late, was when we met,
And you became the reason,  
My eyes stay wet,
Whenever I think of you,

All the beautiful things,  
Have at last gone away,  
To teach us perhaps a lesson,
That nothing ever stays,

We lay
as gloves
each a leisured hand
ingested by the other

Pleasure teeming
unweaned
and weak for the feed

Keening to pray continue
we lay down
to play some more

To follow her is to
Twist and turn through life

Attempt to squirm free
And once more
her exotic scent
captivates you

At least your suffering
Is keen and intense

Every physical contortion
Only constricts her hold

Most predict despite
Numerous gyrations
The end will be catastrophic

This world will go on
with its energy and strength.

But you will go off.
Your life has a length.

While your body is still working,
put it to good use.

Don't sell your dreams
with a single excuse.

Realise you are gold
waiting to be seen.

Know it before you're old.
Live bold,
while still keen.

keen eyes scan around,
for the mystery concealed;
unseen but right here!

Ayy it's 2017
A year so changing; a year so keen.
Though some might not see what it means,
2017 set a scene.

Ayy it'll be 2018
Will it be grand? Will it be keen?
What, to some people, does this mean?
Can it ever set a scene?