Its snowing again,
but getting stuck here without you hardly seems fair.
A foot at least.
Like we always talked about, the wind howling down the chimney, snow drifting up against the door.
Pointless really.
Why have a good storm if you have no one to enjoy it with?
You should be here.
It should be all candles and brandy and a proper fire.
"Real flame effect" who are they trying to kid?
Not much use when the power goes.
What was I thinking?

When finally the end arrives
will it be a blessed release
will the turmoil of this life we live
be at last replaced by peace
Will I say goodbye with dignity
slipping slowly from the light
or will I be gripped by panic
from holding on too tight
I hope I have the courage
that I can show to those who care
so they remember me as being calm
passing in peace, not in despair.
There's so much I have left to do
so much more I have to say
when finally the end arrives
please let it not be today.

You're looking old, my friend,
and if I may say, a little sad.
Such is the nature of the honesty
our chats have always had.
And now your looking tired too,
worn down, defeated.
Where once I saw an extrovert,
I now see a man retreated.
The boy you used to be is gone,
never to come back.
The fresh faced look of yesterday,
hides 'neath stubble, grey and black.
The wrinkles now say character,
where their absence once said youth,
and eyes that once said innocence,
now show experience and truth.
That's not all, there's something else,
as if a sadness shrouds your soul.
hiding scars you cannot heal
whilst two halves remain unwhole.
But you know my friend, its up to you
and the chances that you take,
for our path is one we draw ourselves
by the decisions that we make.

Surrounded by people,
isolated and alone.
A day to day that begs escape.
A shelter's not a home.
Passing strangers turn their heads,
not one of them a friend.
Forgotten human contact,
let this not be the end.
Does anybody see me;
or does my voice just go unheard?
Am I really so invisible;
another unread word?
If just one of you would take the time,
to raise your eyes up from the ground,
but instead you just keep walking by,
ease your discomfort for a Pound.

I spend my days in ignorance
thinking everything's alright
Only to learn that "can we talk"
means "its time we had a fight"

How do I get it so wrong
just by hearing what you say
and choosing not to turn it round
to take it a different way

I tell you that I'm tired
but that's never what you hear
You choose instead that its a sign
that I don't want you near

I tell you that I'm busy
and the words fill you doubt
but it just means I have stuff to do
before the time runs out.

I tell you that I have to go
that there's a place I have to be
but you take as a personal slight
that its you I want to leave

But when I tell you that I love you
a smile lights up your face
There's no doubt or misconception
just acceptance in its place

I wish that you listen
and just hear the words I say
then we will last forever
and your smile is here to stay

We divert rivers for desert fountains
Mine the very souls of mountains
yet we cannot spare the cash to feed the poor

Election hopefuls promise lies
while they look us in the eyes
then line their pockets like any other corporate *****

The treasury of this nation
thrives on fiscal *******
massaging figures til the money is all spent

And while we're all left to drown
some get bailed out to higher ground
as they stand upon the ninety nine percent

Why does the power of human greed
come before helping those in need
or is compassion blind, no longer can she see?

I pray to god I'm not alone
so if you appreciate my tone
come out and Occupy this planet Earth with me

We were not part of your war
but just trying to live our life
myself and my two sons
my daughter and my wife

But that didn't seem to matter
when the bombs and missiles fell
Men, women and children
friends and family blown to hell

At least I'm not haunted by the visions
of my daughter torn in two
or the sound of the explosions
that beat my sons both black and blue

And every night I don't close my eyes
and hear the sound of my wife's voice
as she calls to warn my daughter
and then cries out to my boys

For I too was buried in that shallow grave
No words were said, none made a fuss
but when the poppys fall in the Albert Hall
tell me who'll remember us?