nash-sibandaWhisper

Welsh
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A Short Poem About Phone HackingMy phone has been hacked, / I feel gladdened to know, that / Someone's interested,
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Hair, Perfume, Etc.She is as lines to Bauhaus, oblique / In category yet commanding in form; / Her mind a pool of wealth and Grace,
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Meet MeMeet me at the verge, the place where / Caledonian Road meets the river and the / Reckless thugs of Camden dare not travel,
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The Cynical GenerationI believe we are of sound and worthy mind; / That we might cast our constant glare back, / Towards our own transgressions and
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To Days Of Summer1 / We are the folly, / Of youth, of life, of desire,
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As England BurnsGlass is everywhere. / The empty road; between shrubs / And upturned wheelie bins.
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Good Day, Constant FriendGood day, constant friend, you / Please me great; / Belie your subtle pleasantries,
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A Verse For A Verbose LadHe thinks himself a learned man, / And through vain accounts, he is right. / Though his youthful grin may betray
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Innate Privilege and Blind LuckTonight's expulsion / Requires anonymity and mild discretion, / For he will not bring about the disgrace
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The World is Left to Stop and StareThis stray amongst the lions, singing / Songs about the motions, while he / Shuffles on his feet, and dreams of
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