The stilted conversation
The formal tone of voice
He's too polite to not reply
He feels he has no choice.

I reminisce and chatter
Babbling on and on
But then I finally realise
His interest has long gone.

I gave the hand of friendship
But that was not to be
We’ve hit a void, an emptiness
Now memory, set him free!

listening to the tune of the breeze
she sings to me through needles and leaves
nature's song can be seen in the trees
when they sway with me to her beat of ease

Shade me
In your
Grey.
Take the
Pencil
Draw
My
Life away.

A  star  is  a

Diamond  in  the

*Dark  ,

You  are

A  diamond  in

The  *rough

I make a living, by farming and grit.
I make a living on crud and spit
Spit into the hands
Dirt on the shoe
A farmers hand playing the farmer blues.