After I am gone,
I might just stay.
Not for long but for
a short while anyway.

I'll see you in the daytime
and call your name at night.
Switching on the t.v,
turning off the light.

The temperature drops
and it is getting colder.
I'll breathe into your ear
whilst touching your shoulder.

"It's me, I'm still here"
"Yes, you heard me right"
I'll sit on your bed and
watch you all night.

Now you know it's me,
It's time for me to go.
I never ever left you.
I wanted you to know

Poetry by Kaydee

The trees and the river
where we loved to go.
With tents and dried kindling,
the fire, its glow.

Make swings in the trees
with mud on our knees.
Completing scout tasks
and the badges we'd sew.
Make rafts that we'd sail
and the scout songs, regail.

We'd follow the river
to see it unfold.
Now none of us go there
now that we're old.

Poetry by Kaydee

Stay on point,
remain on path.
A childhood thought,
a fiery wrath.
Safe and sound
now all is well.
Do not recall
your childhood hell.
The bedroom door,
that creeping light.
Remain tight lipped,
too young to fight.
When Mum goes out
stay quiet, I'd say.
Don't make a noise,
he'll go away.
Face buried deep,
the pillows cloak.
You got away,
your brother's broke.
He struck again,
too late to cry.
We couldn't tell,
he'd only lie.

Kaydee.

"I'm not hungry" she said.
"Let's both get undressed
and go straight to bed".
Her eyes peer down,
I've read that look.
She's hungry only
that we ****.
Both twisted, posed,
improbable feats.
Entangled, stuck in
satin sheets.
Back arched from touch,
sensual caress.
Opening of *****,
a fingers press.
A wanting tongue,
it reads her look.
A throbbing gland,
throes north and stuck.
Perspiring writhe,
one, two, we slide.
Enchanted throws,
"oh God" she cried.
Seismic shudders,
twisted face.
One final cry,
a tired embrace.

Poetry by Kaydee.

Blessed are the fools
who remember read ink.
Fooled are the blessed
who critically think.

Kaydee.

At Prophets gate
in front of a jury.
Cannot be judged when
we have the same story.

Defined by our actions
yet separated by thought.
The battle lines drawn
based on **** we were taught.

The matrix created,
money to be made.
Dependent on memory,
reflected in grade.

Well how did you do
with the lessons you had?
Did you repeat the mistakes
of your Mum and your Dad?

So who is at fault?
We're all pawns in a game,
consuming their poison
for fortune and fame.

and now that it's over,
here is your prize!
That's right,
you get **** all
'cause everyone dies.

Poetry by Kaydee.

Looks like we didn't make it,
I always thought we would.
Now the end is nearing
and it is getting late,
I never knew until today
your love would turn to hate.

I know that people change
and no one more than I.
I really didn't realise
you wished that
I would die.

by Kaydee
late in the day.