If you saw a picture that reminded you of me, what would it be?
Clothes I wore or the look on a face.
The back of me as you walked away?
The smile as I wake with eyes still shut.
Or your own reflection with no one to love.
What reminds you of me is just yourself.
A social butterfly that loves herself.
Woe is you and protesteth much, as he calls you fat but you both still ******.
So what reminds you of me is now all that you have.
I left your life 15.45 on Tuesday last.

It never started out as a journey. There was no destination.
No one place that was ever headed for or a place they could call home.
When they started out they took with them the hopes and dreams of something.
A vision in the mind and heart. But nothing of substance,
nothing but hope.
Then house bought to make a home, plans made and children born.
Jobs changed and hours grew longer.
Quality time is all but over.
Drift along and drift apart,
Journeys end is all they have.

We tried to be better with each new cause.
But while we tried to save the whale, we polluted its home.
We tried to save the tiger but its home was used for lumber.
The orangutans deminished for Palm oil and crops.
Now the globe is warming and the oceans rise.
They're full of plastic and everything is dying.
So now we have only ourselves to blame for plastics, Monsanto and wild hurricanes.
The next great cause will be because of effect.
No one to save mankind, as he killed everything else.

When you wake up hungover next to a woman you met last night.
Do not shout!
"Unexpected item in the bagging area"

I've reduced my emotional outgoings.
I was frankly spending to much. On things not worth a **** and people as such.
Not sure what I've saved as nothing to measure it by.
But for the lack of tears and heartache, it's worth a try!

Spash after splash the shells bombarded the waves as the metal hulk ploughed its path through the sea.
All standing as men but mostly boys.
To the left explosions a platoon now lost, not far to go the beach was in sight.
A thud and a shudder as the bow hits the shore.
The door drops forward in a hail of lead.
Front ranks fall slain were they stood.
Lieutenant shouts forward as his head comes off.
Running and crawling sand in their eyes, climbing over their brothers now dead.
Whistles blowing and explosions all around.
They climb in the crater the last one formed.
"Get off the beach" was all that was heard.
But get to where?
As the bullets hailed.