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Micheal Wolf May 2013
Wide awake at 5 am, I lye here again
Should I be in another's bed or they be here with me instead
Awake to soon before the sun, only birds sing their song
Turn over now and try to sleep before the day for me begins
Micheal Wolf Apr 2013
Closed minds seem to hold governance
A long proud country, where rights now denied
Poor deprived of basics, while gentry lavish in fare
Not a merry England or empire to envy
A union falling apart as if asset stripped
Old choose between heat or food
They are many and surplus to the millionaires
Those who coalition yet not majority
Seized power only to profit
Punish the weak and working man
Revolution may be their folly
Micheal Wolf Jan 2013
Ok let me see Old Testament says seven days
Well six in fact as God stepped back
And like all men, job done! Sat on his ***
Seven days to do all that on week out of 52
52 that make the year that times us here
Now God you see thats my rub because creation was so long ago
We did not orbit quite this way and days and weeks where different then
Six or seven, eight or nine search me God I don't know
But your figures don't add up you know
Big bang I think and primeval soup
Won't sell like Moses other stunts!
So God or Hawking heaven or hell
Choose your own I'm lost as well
Micheal Wolf Apr 2013
Only echoes now remain of they
A silence that became louder year by year
More deafening than the reality of the suppressed truth
Then it was out
louder than an explosion
The truth emerged and in that moment
Solice became a possibility
Justice an equality
Not an orchestrated privilege
For it had long been hidden
Hidden by lies told by those who knew
Those sworn to protect
A small group of inquisitors
The truth would have brought change
The truth however bitter would have ended it
Yet they did not air that truth, oh no
A group so powerful they changed history
No they re wrote it as a *******
Tomorrow so it seems they bury their leader
With honour and pomp and ceremony
Yesterday you mourned the victims
Left to die like cattle slaughtered
But soon you may vanquish the conspirators
Tonight sleep as your 96 do
Be at peace for the truth has aired
Lady Justice now is in balance and wields her sword
For none football/soccer supporters (such as I am) it is a lament to the 96 Liverpool supporters who died portrayed as drunken fans. 24 yrs  on the real truth emerged. Shameful hypocracy.
Micheal Wolf Aug 2015
I want a big clock
Hung  upon my wall
Like the kind in train stations
With arms feet long

I want to hear each tick
And every tock
One at a time
Counting the moments
As life passes by

I know one day
Maybe to soon
The clock will stop
For me alone

Who knows why
It ticks as it does
How many seconds
Each of us have

You get to use them
With who, is your call
But once each has gone
It's gone for good

So watch the hands
Sweep the face
Tick after tock
Till we leave this place
Micheal Wolf Feb 2013
A little slap
A little tap
A cheeky smack on the ***
A pull of hair
A tear of cloth
A couple of knots to get you off
A maids dress
A firmans uniform to impress
All eclipsed as
A heart attack when the kids come in!
Micheal Wolf Sep 2013
They met in a secluded lane
Though didn't kiss, or touch exchange
No kissing was there to be done
For he felt the sadness in her voice
For life had so far run its course
Leaving only sadness in its wake
Exchanging thoughts and views
The why's and wherefores
Of how and when their lives had broken
Then as chance they met,
They parted same
Only to go their separate ways
It was rather nice he had to say
To look once more upon her face
Imagine days and nights gone by
Emmbraced in passion in a former life
But part they did in stiff lip fashion
Parting with no kiss or embrace
Home to bed and thoughts to race
He awoke having made love the whole night long
But when he turned to kiss her she was gone
He realised then it was all but a dream
Nothing in life is as it seems.
My attempt in the style of Edgar Allan Poe.
Micheal Wolf Feb 2013
You said you had a bucket list
I laughed and smiled
I pictured an orange one at your side
A yellow one for posh days. A red one today !
A Silly thought now it won't go away.
I have written for years under a pen name
Something just seeds me to write now and then
It then kind of struck me that it's not quite as mad
As when where children a bucket we had!
From sandpit to garden and beach holiday
It went with us always as well a *****.
So send me a picture, from each of you trips
With you beautiful smile and your bucket In it!
A moment of madness
Micheal Wolf Jun 2013
Some people think they have all the answers
Reality is there didn't understand the question
If there ever indeed was a question
I mean what is right or wrong
Who decides what's good for us what's not
I don't assume to know if your actions are fact or based upon fear
I dont judge yet we all lie in judgement
I don't presume any basis for decision
Yet I shall be disappointed
And that my friends is where society now takes us
Not into loving each other and seeing good
It now steers us into the unforgiving fault finding that drives us apart
That is our legacy
Our reality
Our end
We speak of humanity when we have lost all semblance of it
A future lost in propaganda and self loathing
A 1984 thirty years on
A future more akin to the war torn Europe of the *****
Micheal Wolf Mar 2013
Out the bath I had to get
To open the door to your smiley face
"AM I SAVED" your poe face asked
No you ***** I was in the bath
God has sent me to your door
Oh not again I'm getting bored
"Do you believe in the lord thy god?"
I'm dripping wet you stupid ****!
Patience gone decorum lost
I let both barrels fire at once
Oh doorstep preacher shut thy grid!
You live a lie and always will
No god will save you, no heaven above
The lie you live is foolish enough
Your bible is made from letters and verse
Hundreds of years after his birth
It was political work fit for a king
By sayers of soothes fearful of him
It kept people's in fear and others at war
No proof of its truths have  ever been shown
So preacher be quiet and pack up your wares
Let good people live without your concerns
Repent if you wish and seek your own solace
But disturb me again! I'll smack you I promise
The end of your world and it won't be a comet!
Micheal Wolf Jul 2014
Over and over the same foes on a piece of ground where nothing grows
Fertiliser the blood of a child a seed won't grow even if it tried
Your cause is lost in hate and fear humanity does not live here
Micheal Wolf Dec 2012
A Photon bumps from place to place
Inside the Suns core day after day

10,000 years if it's lucky
170,000 if it gets stuck

But comes the day it reaches the surface and begins its interstellar journey

It then takes 8 minutes and 19 seconds
If you're picky it's because of procession

A little more or a little less
Because we wobble for seasons sake

But once the photon ends its journey
It could light up just anything

A shaft of light upon a face
That took millennia to make

Or light up a yellow buttercup
Beneath the chin of my little one

Across time and space the photon raced
Just to do its best

For all we had before it came was
Nothing just
Micheal Wolf May 2015
I need a day, just one
Squeezed between Saturday and Sunday if we can
A handful of hours to spend on our own
No others watching just the Sun and the Moon
A time to talk and walk and laugh
A time to see you smile again
A day that we can call our own
A day to see if we belong
Some time to walk barefoot in sand
I wonder would you hold my hand
Micheal Wolf Mar 2013
Are you constipated ?
Irish butter is softer you know
Tena Lady will stop the drips
Do you need a new sofa ?
Disneyland for holidays
Buy cadburys creme eggs
Kettles boiled and time for tea
Has to be PG tips
Adverts between programs
Micheal Wolf Mar 2014
She lay motionles devoid of all feeling for others, an emptiness consumed her. A time passed a time to come. It wasn't always so, oh no there had been great turbulent moments of passion, but like seasons now past, gone. For he was the steer, her light, her spirit and now he lay with another. Their meeting evoked a state of unison neither could imagine and yet it ended as did their marriages, blown apart by it's energy and light. Now, dust settled, there is no other, no substitute. Oh lovers taken but to quell the fire. For he is still there. Distant, though not far. They circle like planets and pass in close proximity,  never touching the force pulls them together. They will one day orbit each other again or simply collide and be blown to oblivion.
Observations on others
Micheal Wolf Jun 2014
Steep steps and high walls
Uneven sidewalk and potholed roads
Missing tiles and leaking roof
All to be afraid of
Broken lamps and shadows hide
The fears that control our souls at night
Swinging like a fly screen door
Noises that make the senses cold
Afraid of stone
Afraid of wood
Broken glass and shutters thud
All it was it is no more
Architecture haunts your thoughts
Micheal Wolf Sep 2013
For my own part
I have never had a thought
Which I could not set down in words
with even more distinctness
Than that with which I conceived it
There is however, a class of fancies
Of exquisite delicacy
Which are not thoughts
And to which as yet I have found it
Absolutely impossible to adapt to language
These fancies arise in the soul
Alas how rarely
Only at epochs of most intense tranquility
When the ****** and mental health are in perfection
And at those mere points of time
Where the confines of the waking world
Blend with the world of dreams
And so I captured this fancy
Where all that we see or seem is but
A Dream Within A Dream
Simply one of the best works in existence.
The main body is taken from Poes  work and slightly tweeked to form a splendid narative to Alan Parsons Tales of Mystety and Imagination read by Orson Wells.
Micheal Wolf Sep 2016
Five drinks later and loose of lip
She outlined her desires
I'd chuck my knickers at you!
But I'd have to ring them out first!!!

Shameless and longing she needed him now
But our victim saw love in her eyes

To the room for her craving
For him all he desired
An hour later, both were satisfied

She left him her number
But please only texts
She had tasted honey
And would want it again
Micheal Wolf Feb 2013
A child wishes to be older
A teenager tries to be grown up
An adult tries to stay youthful
The old ?
They just pray to stay
Micheal Wolf Oct 2017
Age isn't worrying about missing the toilet.
It's about getting there quick enough.
It isn't about walking the dog.
It's about wishing you could.
Micheal Wolf Oct 2020
There is more grey now.
Silver flecks in once brown hair.
Wrinkles a plenty and marks never noticed.
Skin drier and eyes glassier.
It was slow.
Creeping up like a vine.
Then noticed by all.
Age took hold and skin lost its smooth look, traded for texture.
Then one morning.
I was old
Micheal Wolf Feb 2013
Morning world I'm here again
Stiff and ready to face the day
My bones and joints arnt what they were
Where are my glasses I put them there
Time for tea I'll ring the bell
You see my legs don't work to well
In she pops like a little girl
And talks to me like one as well
I'm old and grey and frail outside
My brain still ticks and works inside
I 've done most the things I tried to do
But right now I need to poo !
Don't write people off
Micheal Wolf Nov 2016
He's nice
Quite cute
But a little bit old
He is old fashioned
Not exciting at all

Dresses smart
But not casual
He held open the door
If he was just younger
Or a few inches taller
I'd give that a whirl

Weeks later you're sat there
Listening again
To how an Adonis
Dumped her again
Why can't she meet one
One that's for keeps
When all that you are
Is all that she seeks

Chemistry, spark
All of those things
And none of them
Where you're concerned

So off on her quest
He must be out there!
He's in here you fool
In the opposite chair

She'll never realise
He'll never tell
I simply watch them
As their lifes tick away
Micheal Wolf Jun 2014
I walked and walked as Basil played
bouncing towards the rushing waves.
I don't think he had seen the sea and expected to walk upon its sheen.
Such simple pleasure with his stick, his spirit free as he runs to me.
Three days on he has settled now, no sheep to tempt him to run amock.
His coat as white as the driven snow yet fear sometimes is all he shows.
Travellers long since gone, did this lurcher so much harm.
From Ruthin now to seaside town his luck has changed he's found a home.
His foster mum gave him a chance knowing one day I'd come along.
I wonder does he think in Welsh? As he runs in circles as he plays.
Wales it seems doth rule today as a soul seemed to call out to me!
This time a Gypsy of a different kind triggered something in my mind.
I don't know why or maybe I do was it Karma of spirit? Or a simple truth?
For a day swathed with memories made and smiles abound as night closes in.
Tomorrow it may have been a dream, or dawn may bring better things.
Stranger still I can't explain today I just saw good in things.
Good when for so long I'd known was the pain and cruelty that others cause.
Yet in simple words and very few, and a dogs heart I saw through.
I saw a Something I can't explain and I want it now every day.
A bizarre cascade of thoughts and events and a crazy thought that sparked a memory and a need to share. It won't make sense. It probably isn't meant to. But, somehow it really mattered to simply say hi to someone today and share some thoughts. I think they needed some warmth. Wish I could explain better.
The earth has music for those who listen. Shakespeare.
Maybe I was hearing but not listening.
Micheal Wolf Mar 2014
She never spoke of him. It was as though he had never existed. Blanked out like a barrier. Often he would ask of him, had she heard? He was in the papers, through no malice, nor ignorance. Just asking.  Only to be greeted with a subtle diversion or a slight raise of the eye. A taboo subject.
For whilst he held her love, he knew he never held her heart.
That was taken decades ago by another. Whilst he grew ever stronger, she ever supporting, withered and lost herself. Simply absorbed. Then after a time, drained, surplus, discarded. Left alone with her thoughts of why, why not and woe be gone. That was when he found her again. Lost inside herself, alone. So often he had seen the way she followed him giving her all.  Whilst painfully he watched him, take, take her all and from others. Whilst she believed he was hers. His next mark, ******* the life out of them in parallel to her. They got together in an accident for her security, for him everything. Then one day on the train he saw he was to be married. He closed the paper folded it and tucked it under my arm. I always placed it on the desk in the hall for her to read later. He called out to her. But there was no answer. In the kitchen simply a note. "Thankyou and goodbye" She had learnt her craft well.
An attempt at flash writting from a headline or press piece.
Micheal Wolf May 2014
Shy inquisitive always sincere.
Experienced cold simply a thrill.
Old fashioned In nylons twice his years.
The things she did are not for here!
Years later her daughter too, not his best move.
Then sat watching the stars and the waves come in.
Like slippers worn time and again, on and off, when both near.
A  quickie snatched on a canal bank, a crazy mistake but nice at the time.
Baby oil frenzied and really quite mad.
Then came the one who broke his heart.
Then back to slippers that still didn't fit.
Then many years with the last he believed.
Then back in the market past his used date
A much younger lover then came to his door, it wasn't what either was looking for.
Many options, none he desired simply no trust, empty inside.
A self satirical sendup
Micheal Wolf Sep 2013
A is for ******* we all know a few
B is for ******* they talk to you
C is for can't which really means won't
D is for *******, arseholes best friend
E is for Ego and yours is huge
F is for **** it, you know how it goes
G is for good you're struggling to find
H is for help we need it sometimes
I is for ignorant and so many are
J is for joy and seldom these days
K is for kids, Dont read this page!
L is for lover, I need a new one
M is for ******, we've all hatched a plan
N is for never or at least not now
O is for optomist, as you never know
P is for power a dangerous thing
Q is for quiet, there is none here
R is for random,  like this little verse
S is for shity, a day spent at work
T is for time,  never enough
U is for useless, you never are
V is for ******, your having a laugh
W is for wages,  gone in a flash
X is for xbox a plague on the brain
Y is for you, I missed you today
Z is for zombie as its 0130
And I can't ****** sleep so I wrote a crap verse!
Micheal Wolf Jul 2020
When I was a child I had questions.
Why aren't dogs blue when the sky is?
Why don't they live long?
Why do we die?
Why do we have to go to school?
Why does it snow?
Why does it rain?
Why do we go to church?
Who is God?
Why do we pray to him, where is he?

As I grew many were answered. Grown ups knew best. The answers often not to my satisfaction but that's life you're told.

At 50 I have other questions.
Why do we ****?
Why do we starve?
Why do we hate?
Why do we bomb?
What makes one God better than another?
Why is your God worth killing for?

Now l am a grown up and I have the answers and I don't like them. Because now the grown ups are acting like children.

Why do they have no reason?
Why don't they seek peace?
Why must they keep killing?
Why am I the same species?
Because I really don't want to be part of this anymore.
There is a plague upon mankind it's symptoms are greed, hate, narcissism, mania, egotistical tunnel vision, delusion.
We fought wars to stop tyrants, now we vote them into power. We signed arms embargoes. Now we sign for more nukes.
We can't look after our homeless, our disabled, our sick, and we preach to others from our high ground. Yeah.. Both feet in quicksand and sinking.  May our children be around long enough to forgive us. May they ask those very same questions. May they find better answers than we seem to have.
Micheal Wolf Apr 2018
She was A storm swept dark moon.
Many watched and envied her suitors.
Imagined her in many ways.
But if you closed your eyes and listened.
All you could hear was a caged bird singing.
Trapped in her own confines.
Micheal Wolf Feb 2018
Romeo oh Romeo, he is nowhere to be seen
He sent a woman flowers and got an injunction for two years
He asked a girl at work out and promptly got the sack
She then got promoted after saying he touched her ***
But Juliet now 50 can't get a steady man
No ****** trusts her as she's played with all of them
Chivalry isn't dead, not knights of old
The armour isn't worth it and the white horse has been sold.
So keep showing all that anger and screeming "I'm oppressed!"
Then wonder why you're alone each night as you undress.
Not all men are ******* and not all women mad
Some have survived hell and are worthy of a chance.
So look around your world and try to understand that the next person to like you wasn't the **** that let you down.
Micheal Wolf Jul 2014
Seems to be empathic and care for others
Makes one person wrong in the eyes of another.
How's that work when neither is your lover? Jealousy perhaps of nothing in fact.
To express approval, yet not for you?
What made you exclusive?
Your egos mood
To be kind to many is no crime.
To be nasty to one is, I think you will find.
No longer will I bother or show support
To those who take comfort in destroying that cause.
Micheal Wolf Mar 2013
Evening approaches silently
The cold easterly wind bites
My face feels like ice, frozen
Snow is falling three counties away
It may reach me, it holds some comfort
Stomach knotted in depression
So so many many things beyond my control
Today was an effort, tomorrow will be more
One day soon I can see it unworthy of the effort
No tomorrow no more, no point
If you have never seen depressions face
Looked at its sallow eyes
it's gaunt expression looking back in the mirror
You my friend are lucky.
A silent killer
Un merciful
All consuming
Micheal Wolf Nov 2013
Almost yet not
Within grasp
Yet not holding
With but without
Almost is nothing
The lost
Micheal Wolf Apr 2013
I had finished tonight, Readings done tea drunk
Then as I tried to sleep I picked up my phone
I read a poem from girl a who feels alone
Betrayed by a boy who cherished another
Emotionally hurt and so in pain
Yet she wrote about it
She wrote in imagery that moved me
My day was as abhorrent as hers yet I had no words
I couldn't write as she did nor paint the picture
She apologized for her outburst
The most moving soul bearing write
Yet apologized.
So long as she writes an old **** like me will read
To be reminded of the love hurt pain and joy
To feel life, to be moved
May I suggest you sample her world
Live a day of her life in words and be humbled

Bad day-bad times Katy Moran

Then tell me if I'm wrong.
Micheal Wolf Feb 2014
Eyes heavy now as the day comes to a close
The days tailcoats snagged on the evenings last light
My thoughts random, yet calm as the night invites me
I lye alone no comfort in my bed, save the moments captured in memory or the visions in imagination.
Some vivid, some hazed often slowed as my mimd savours the pleasures of the senses.
The voices of the day spill over into the night
I hear the soft voice, reading to me and picture ruby lips, their folds and creases giving flight to words.
Soothing my passing to sleep whispering now, as if to kiss my consciousness goodnight.
Then the voice fades, memories slip away and I am left alone.
Alone imagining, wondering.
Is that perfume I smell?
Can the mind really do this.
Am I alone? Or held in the arms of another far away. Do they hold me in their bed, alone, yet together.
Do they lye entwined, peaceful, as one yet not.
Are we ever alone with our thoughts
Our emotions seperated from consciousness and dreams
I hope not
Do you?
Kicked about and finished. Subject to be changed
Micheal Wolf Oct 2012
I guess the image I had was corrupted I never mentioned filibusted. A seething whit I couldn't match from a advisory who met her match. The prose the verse it all unspun to show what really was undone. So ****** off the parson said and go home to your Steele bed or find a den that warms you more and forget the pain that came before.
Micheal Wolf Apr 2014
I wrote a love song for no one
No special person to hear it
But everyone who listend loved it
All saw themselves in it.

I wrote a love song for no one
I just tried to show my soul
But people just asked questions
Who was it for I wrote

I wrote a love song for no one
It was the way it ought to be
What I imagined love was
The way it should feel

I wrote a love song for no one
Just words like thoughts, mixed up
The highs and lows of wanting
The dreams of love and lust

So if you hear a love song
It may be special just to you
You can guess why it was written
But never know the truth
Micheal Wolf Feb 2013
The Pope has gone
A walker dies
His mates rescued by helicopter
75k to be old aged
Iran is brewing
Syria's a mess
Every day more get killed
Rush and China annoy Japan
And the water bills gone up again!
The football world is always there
Overpaid and seems unfair
Then top it all the weather man
Depress me, more with snow again
So I sit drink my Earl Grey
Watch it unfold every day
Sad to say how much we see
Of death or war on TV
Off to my bed to try turn off
And dream of a better world tomorrow
Micheal Wolf Aug 2013
In December they will write of away in a manger and silent night
Trees and angels glowing bright in every home but is that right?
So what is so special about that day?
For religion long since lost its way
Commerce now rules the roost built on theology it's idioms proof
The date is now meaningless it was arbitrary in any case
For you see the date it really is a fake, I won't say the word it has no place
It's a time some feel so alone lost without a loving home
All they feel that they can do is shed this mortal coil and go
Others try to buy so much to try and earn a lover's lust
That's the point is it not?
To spend and spend till it's all gone
Materialistic self pious praise to show them you raised your game
So next year when it comes once more, your still paying for the one before
The meaning now it's totally lost If only just a pair of socks
Yet rapped with love it means much more than anything that came before
Yet there is something left inside even a cold dead heart like mine
It's the look upon a small child's face when opening gifts on that day
Or a lover wrapped in silk and lace that makes your heart beat again
So look not at December the twenty fifth to perpetuate the festive myth
For if you open up your eyes, your heart may also beat with life
Then any time, any day...
Could be the Christmas you can make
Who knows it could be every Day
Micheal Wolf Sep 2012
Rain ran its way through my hair
Down the back of my neck like fingertips
Warm, gentle like the touch of a lover since passed.
All I had all I'd lost

Where was love where had it gone

I'd see the back of her head in every crowd
Yet she turned her  head she was gone
revealing the face of a stranger

Were was my love where had it gone

I would see a figure that reminded me of hers
Nirvana? No it wouldn't feel the same
But if I close my eyes tight enough I see stars,
then her face all the time

Where was my love where had it gone

So for a moment yes she's here but no,
she is the stranger and all I can feel
is the rain.
Down my neck like fingertips

Now cold, no more  just rain,
Just rain
Just rain
The moment lost.

Where oh where had my love gone
Something of sensitivity
Micheal Wolf Aug 2013
Infuriated doesn't come close when listening to the words you spout
You are so special in every way I could feel the need, I had to say
If you don't go away I'll strangle you with your mum's **** beads
Now where that came from left me at a loss, but he shut up and buggered off.
Probably gone home to check what else his mum has hidden under her bed!
Micheal Wolf Feb 2013
It'***** and miss the *******
We know It's there and needs a kiss
A gentle lick a temperate ****
A delicate flick with the tongue
Then more and more and firmer still
It pops up to show it's thrilled
Then hands you feel on your head pushing you deeper in her cleft
Faster still you thrill her more as she writhes and asks for more
Then finally as her body shakes you taste her as she slips away
Micheal Wolf Feb 2013
A twitch
A tingle
A feeling in the water
A ladies moment
A naughty emotion
A thrill of a thought
A thrill at the thought
A wistful proclavity
A moment of disorder
A body confused
A blip in the day
A welcome diversion
A moment to saver
Micheal Wolf Apr 2020
A rare thing for me to invite them.
A guest I seldom see.
But after today I needed them and they me.
We started of quite quickly.
Then settled to a pace.
Now all that's left.
Are the remains of the day.
Bushmills Irish Whiskey
Micheal Wolf Mar 2014
Anna entered the room like a butterfly, gossamer to all.
Her face told a different story. One of sadness and hurt.

She wore only the finest silks and seamed cuban stockings.
All eyes latched upon her and followed  every step. But no real man ever approached her.
No saviour could get near.

She wore none of her finery, the choice all his.
A trophy bride,
sold like raw meat in her childhood.
It was normal in her village, her adolescence stolen from her.

Anna's delicate neck held an overbearing sapphire necklace. It was overkill in every way.
All for show, all chosen by him, all for him.

He entered with his cronies as though owning the club.
The way he thought he owned her.
Thought indeed, for there is always a price in ownership.

Hours past champagne and fake laughter abounded.
Then she stood up.
Immediately challenged!
She wished to go and powder her nose.
Naturally escorted, god forbid she made outside contact.

But she was not watched within. Minutes passed then... The scream.
She had left, Anna had escaped him.
The anger on his face !
He had no control, lost face in front of them all.
For Anna, oh beautiful Anna lay sylph like wrapped like a cloud in her white dress, its silk floating in a pool of her life blood.

She had left, she was free.
Now her face was different, white, ashen but at peace.
Anna had left.
Short tale based upon escaping slavery as a *** trade bride.
Micheal Wolf Jan 2019
Off she went all dressed up to meet the guy she swiped left upon.
Five feet 10 his profile said but that's where all the lies began!
In she walked in her killer heels, eyes wide and bright to look for him.
But not a sign of him to see had he stood her up? How dare he!
Then at the bar worst for wear she saw his face and balding head.
How had he aged so much, so soon from the photos that made her swoon.
Well the truth aired and shots were fired, Napoleon's descendant had clearly lied!
The CEO of a successful business would be up at 5 for the newspaper deliveries.
His holiday home was a caravan, in the **** of Wales where no one went.
His hair had gone south long ago and his belly was chasing it now as well.
But in all of this, had she lied? Was she 48 or 55?
Had those lips been rendered too? With botox and the wrinkles smoothed.
At 48 or 55 that dress had some riples inside.
The parts Spanx can't control, where age and love handles roll.
She stayed they drank. Then drank again and laughed and talked of other things.
They danced made shapes for all to see like watching a form of epilepsy.
They left at one her shoes in hand,  holes in her tights, lipstick smeared upon his cheek and a room to find to seal the deal.
Promises made to meet again and drink and dance and meet their friends.
Next week he was sat at the very same bar, watching the door for her enterance!
She? Oh no, nowhere to be seen. Across the town at another scene. This time an accountant, chartered too!
But we all know it isn't true.
Fairytale endings nowhere to be seen. Just nights of ****** and living the dream.
All in all is this all that they want? Repeating the cycle over again.
With another fool in fancy dress?
Viewed from the bottom of an empty glass.
Micheal Wolf Oct 2013
I wish I could choose which dreams to remember
Cast the others away and forget
Do the same for memories, to take away the hurt
Try to imagine a better tomorrow, a world beyond yesterday
Share a few of my feelings, knowing they're not betrayed
My dreams like life are random, simply the minds night games
There is no message or meaning, just the imagination at play
My memories are constant, until they begin to fade
When hope replaces despair and love replaces fear
Then once again I'll dance
To the tune another plays
Micheal Wolf Mar 2013
Works of love
Words of hate
Works of pleasure
Words of pain
Works of life
Words in death
Works of fear
Words of regret
Works of healing
Words of peace

All works are words
Oh how you all write
HP and Anthology
Works given flight
Micheal Wolf Nov 2012
I kind of wonder what I want,
but only seem to know what I don't want.
I don't know what I need yet don't know my needs.
I'm lost in a sea of uncertainty awash with the waves of distrust.
Once in a while I see a beacon like a lighthouse in the dark only to be smashed upon the rocks.
I plan my demise.
The rope the tree the "I told you so".
When I see my children's face and can only be humbled to endure more pain.
You may think it's an exit a bridge to infinity.
It isn't its a road to oblivion.
Now I must sleep and hope for a better tomorrow.
Micheal Wolf Jun 2013
Is there one thing you would change?
One day
One act
One missed opportunity
Would it make all the difference
Would it change where you are now
Would it change what you have become
Will it make you a better person or simply
What would it make worse...........
Be careful what you wish for
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