it's a very famous question,
    based around the 1960s, england:
the beatles? or the rolling stones?
                cliché... i know
well... there's a james bond analogy
to match up to the question...
roger moore or sean connerry?
         the answer is simple...
    roger had a duran duran soundtrack;
i'd pick the ginger... any time of day,
or night...
       just like i'd pick louis tomlinson
over harry styles;
(insert a snigger): roger... roger... ha ha!

Been living beside the river
All alone and still
With no one to talk to
No one to share with

Your body is cover of ***** mud
You disgusted yourself because of how ugly you were

Then someone picks you up
And put you to the group of clean stones
The look on their faces was unexplainable
Yet you know for sure;
They don't like you
They don't want you
And they feel disgusted the way they looked at you

Tears fall from your dolorous eyes
The rain suddenly poured and joined into your sadness
The raindrops clears the ***** mud on your body
And suddenly you shined brightly

You are not a ***** stone you think you were
You are not ugly people think you were
You are not disgusting
You are not what others think you are

You are precious
You're like a star that shines brightly;
and twinkles beautifully
You are everyone adores and treasures
You are a diamond


A diamond, my love

and so what have i to offer you beyond
a collection of cheap and naive sentiments
matted in the dust of ineloquence?
i miss you, is all, but not even you:
an image of you, but not even an image:

the ghost of a fantasy. yes, i am
haunted, haunted by your absence
your senseless existence your
orbit without mass or distance
and all the rest, in its restless fabrication.

all that remains are your artefacts
with i among them, not quite intact.

Would you rather
Have to shout all the things you want to whisper,
Or have to whisper all of the things you want to shout?

You're like that really old brick building,
From the sixteen hundreds.
The one covered in vines and flowers.
It's so old, and beautiful.
But I feel that,
If I look too hard at either one of you,
You'll crumble to the ground.
And all of the history will be lost.

I haven't driven out to see either of you in a while.
I hope you're both still okay.
I think I just want to remember you
The way you were.
I want to shout this,
But I can barely manage a whisper.