Words are a gift or a weapon, and it would seem that wars could be avoided if we knew how to speak the right things...to be more diplomatic.

So this is what its come to, a barm cake and a bun or two, a poor man who can't afford the 'flu and sits in heavy coat and sweater to get a little heat,it gets better,
A candle burns under my bed,the blanket's on but the electrics gone and its getting ****** cold,the candle light takes hold and flames appear,which is the only flaming light in here and the gas is going too,no porridge tomorrow unless I can borrow a couple of quid.

If only I could rid myself of poverty and be like those other folks I see who live in financial security,
and what's the use it'll never happen to me.
I'll be poor of that I'm sure until the day I die and then I'll be poor a little more when they put me six foot underfloor
but at least I'll be warm with all my friends who congregate where this life ends and have a jar or two,sod the cold and sod the 'flu and sod the ****** rich folk too.
I will pull through to the other side
I will find a star and hitch a ride or climb up the ladder and slide down a snake,either way the choices that I make are mine and mine alone and if I have no home,no candle light or mobile phone,you'll find me in the park,in the dark
talking to myself.

The night mixes sluggishly with the morning light and produces a slight kind of greyness,
an Autumnal dayness, a colour which fights with my eyes.
In the process everything blue eventually dies and we become one with the seasons.

Dear fall,
Be better to me then your sister summer,
She whipped and scorned me with her heat,
She made me so busy I had no time for myself,
My disappointment of her misuse of the weather made it inexplicably sad,
Oh fall be better, with your wisdom and your slow grace,
Like a woman growing old,
Do it slowly,
With your warm cider,
Your gold pumpkins and your soft cool evenings.
At first summer was my first love,
But I'm a little mad at summer,
So I'll talk to my second love fall.
Give me time to myself to think, and paint and draw,
Don't hassle me all the time as summer did and make me worry.
Treat me with love and show me more family.
For I miss them so.

As I travel down life's dusty road
Across its rocky path
My hope is that I've shown gods love
Only positive aftermath
To lead by his example
Is my object of desire
I hope his light that dwells within
Shines like a glowing fire
Such peace I hold within my heart
knowing when death comes my way
That he has given eternal life
So I fear not
My dying day
No greater gift could I receive
For this reason
I am bold
I will embrace the gateway to heaven
The treasured path that's lined with gold