The bones of the
not yet murdered,
hurriedly re-dressed
by the hands of the guilty.
Creating a cloak of invisibility
that no one can see.

Whispered words of
the guilty liars,
drowned in their own
breathy stench.
To conceal the truth
that no one can hear.

Words once tearfully written
still undiscovered.
(for time cannot heal)
that only I can feel.

The reaper knocks,
One, two, three
and I ask he call again.
Maybe tomorrow,
but I don't know why.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Paul and his friend once said
"The rock feels no pain".
Yet, without mallet or hammer
the rock,
was smashed with forked tongue
and I wonder . . .
was it Art?

Kaydee.
Inspiration taken from Simon & Garfunkel
Sara Kellie Dec 6
Every time I pull it off
it goes off in my face.
It's in my eye and
on my lips,
I look a right disgrace.
My ***** though
she loves it so
I do it all the time
and if I feed her
from a tin
I'd feel it was a crime
because she just loves
those sachets
that I can't pull open
without getting
covered in
gravy
flavoured
splashes.

Poetry by Kaydee
What
were
you
thinking!!
Sara Kellie Dec 5
One. Death
Spending a lifetime
before the big reveal.
Though constantly decaying
we still cannot peel.
Held captive in our own flesh tomb
we wait for a sign saying
'Mortuary Room'

Two. Birth
You've served your time,
you're free to go.
Oh yeah it's your Birthday,
that's just so you know.
But didn't I die
or was that just a lie?
Next you'll tell me I'm conscious
and that I can fly.

Three. Life
You're free.
Go fly!

Poetry by Kaydee
Death is the beginning.
Flesh is a tomb.
Now spread your wings and fly!
Sara Kellie Dec 4
Hey, that's my Gran!
She's not ******* demented.
She lived on her own
in a house that she rented.
This is how it used to be
when I'd knock on her door
and shout "Hey Gran, it's me!"

Through her curtain,
a bi-focaled rim.
She threatened the Police,
"I don't recognize him"
Although I knew her,
she didn't know me
and from that day on,
this is how it would be.

Poetry by Kaydee
In memory of my Grandma, Mary.
She never knew me as a 'she'
Sara Kellie Dec 4
I am analogue.
made of troughs and of peaks.
My medication offers
silence with tweaks.
I'm upping and downing,
either dreaming or drowning.
So I can't stay too long
in case something goes wrong.

First thought of the day
is of impending doom.
Rain clouds have gathered
and it pours in my room.

Later on that day,
I feel I'm okay
and I don't know why but
. . . . . I'll take it.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Sara Kellie Dec 4
Ding **** ding.
Could you make any more?
The noise you're creating,
now my ears are sore.

You have a brass neck.
Who's pulling your strings,
and now every Sunday
a crowd turns up and sings.

So, ding **** ding.
Now, la la la
because you're a bell-end.
Yes, that's what you are!

Poetry by Kaydee.
Oh sometimes it just comes out like that.
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