I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

You can see bruises
Ripening on my apple skin

I don't want you to recognize them
If you placed your palms against them
Would they fit like key-in-lock

We all have our own unique fingerprints
Mine are frost bitten

And the coffee was cold
so was He

Wear it
share it
put it on a chain and walk it, but
'what if'
you just don't post it?

Instagram for instant fame
Facebook is just the same
Twitter for a bit a fun,

Linkedin,
Blogger another cog, a wheel
in the mill,

your tube, youtube?
always on ****** strike

what's not to like?

and the midwife comments,
'congratulations
you've given birth to a
healthy selfie.

A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.

But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.

But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.

I had to go and see my Doctor
For I was feeling rather dõwn
He took one look and said to me
You need to go out on The town.

He asked are you a heavy drinker
And do you drink alot of wine
I said whisky is my tipple
My preference every time.

He asked if I drink it often
I replied every single night
He laughed and said don't worry
That's perfectly alright.

He asked me what's my favourite blend
I said the Scottish highland malt
That's what they recommended
So the drinkings not my fault.

He asked do you eat much greasy food
Now that's something I can't deny
He suggested cooking frozen chips
They take less time to fry.

I asked Doctor what's your verdict
Is there anything you can do
He replied go out and have some fun
We are humans and our years are few.

So i am glad that I saw my Doctor
Now I am happy and I'm pleased
So go and see your Doctor
He will put your mind at ease.