One day he heard someone say he had the face only a mother could love.
Nothing ever hurt more as he was adopted.

I wish I could hang my mistakes in frames
Walk past them each day
To remind me of how not to do things again.

If we consider our life to be like a elevator starting at the ground floor. As we grow we move to differing levels. Sometimes we skip levels that we think we can do without or not need to experience. Bypass them. Often later in life we have to go back and descend to them before we can go higher. Sometimes people end up in the basement. There is a bar there and lots of bad ideas. But again you may need the visit. For some the basement is where each day the lift comes to rest. But the basement is cold after the bar closes and the other drinkers leave. If you make it out you have a choice of not pressing the down button again. The lift of life is never static. If the lift breaks down and you get trapped there isn't an emotional fireman that turns up and rescues you from the lift. You have to work out for yourself which floor you want to be on. There are signs and guides. But unless the lift breaks and someone has to repair the mechanism, you're on your own.

About three years ago I visited the Cavern pub on Matthew Street. My friend Ian Prowse runs the open Mic night. They have two rules. No cover versions and three songs maximum. I hadn't been for a while and was immediately set upon by Ian to sing a song he likes that I wrote. So when the time came. Up I got and sang. After I went to the bar, my nerves shot. I ordered a drink and a lady approached me and said how much she enjoyed it. We chatted and she asked was I there every week. I said sadly no I have other commitments. She then said she would be back next week as working in Liverpool again would I like to meet up for a drink? . I agreed to meet at 7, Matthew Street. I had just met Heidi.
The next Monday I finished work. Jumped the train to James Street and there she was. I asked had she eaten yet and she hadn't. So we went to a little Thai place on South John Street. We sat down ordered a bottle of white wine and made our selections. By the time we had finished the starters there was about 1cm of wine left in the bottle and she was very chatty and loud. Much to the delight of the couple on the table next too us who seemed to hang on her every word.
The main course came and went as did the second bottle. I still hadn't got halfway into my second glass. Now truly smashed she says "I suppose you will want a BJ after this?" The lady on the table next too us almost choked, her husband let out a laugh and I said, I know not why, "That sounds nice, but I was looking forward to the Apple pie with ice cream to be fair."
That was it for the couple next to us. His wife almost had an embolism and he laughed his head off.
Heidi got up threw her napkin on the table, downed her glass of wine in one, announced to the fellow dinners "He's not getting laid tonight" Turned, almost demolished the table leaving, and stormed out. The couple next to me now in tears, the waitress comes to the table and asks "Err is the lady coming back?" I reply No I don't think so.
She then asks would I like dessert?
Before I can say a word the chap on the table next to us says "I hope you have apple pie and Ice cream for the poor guy"
The waitress said "No" and that finished it. Three tables of people laughing relentlessly.
I sat and had melon ***** and they chatted like we had known each other for years.
What of Heidi?
She was never to be seen again.

A morning trip on the 86 off to town to do some work.
The peace all shattered from the third row back and red faces all around.
On her phone for all to hear of another journey had recently.
 The pageantry of his going down, broadcast to all going to town.
I don't know where she got on but we all know now how she got off.
I wonder if she really knows that no one wanted to know.
His skills may have been a thing of awe but on the bus love you're just a ***** !

Can you overdose on happiness and it make you feel insecure?
Can you love so much it hurts you when you think of it?
Can the touch of another make your soul tremble within?
Can the sight of them leaving **** something inside?
Are there more emotions than those we were tought.
Love joy and happiness, fear hate and remorse.
Is the pain of not knowing such  a burden as is loss?
Is there a magic formula to work it all out?
If you could edit past mistakes would it be a total rewrite?
Would you change the characters names or remove them instead?
Or would you leave things the same and learn from your mistakes?
Ask me tomorrow when the game starts again.

Some dads hide and are never there.
Others try to make it work.
Some are blocked and lied about.
Others never gave a ****.
Some are just an ATM to pay without a thankful word.
For some that all becomes to much and then they shed this mortal coil.