I love, my boots
They are my freedom
Jet black, fit like a glove
Bulletproof
I like their security
Knowing, any day
I can put them on
And go
If I walked, till they wore out
I'd be worlds away from here
In my boots, I could
Kick all my bullies, to the floor
And walk away, comfortably
Freedom
Security
Independence
Yes, I love my boots

Sitting alone on the woodchips
Steel and planks
Shelter from the rain, receiving no thanks
A roofed box
Where lovers kissed
The lonely reminisced
Promises made
Years wished away
Shelter from the rain
Marks and names
Of love and hate
Inscribed on walls
Hearts and initials
Disfigured by the same individuals
Who professed love under its roof
If it could talk, it would speak such truths
Hearts broken in summer haze
Shelter, of sorrow
Solace at night to the solemn
A meeting place
Once unused, but for trysts and trifles
Now that the sun returns so does the warmth
That little park shelter
No longer filled with the sadness of those who dwelt there last
And now it is filled with child's

You are made of ivory and gold
Your lips could rewrite history
From but a brief touch
You have rewritten me
Yet you remain unchanged
Porcelain, china, marble or gold
You are timeless beauty
Never to know the ages ruin
Or the terror of slowly growing old
Your hands will not wither
Nor your eyes and dreams fade
You will remain as you did
On the day you were truly made
Nigh on twenty you were made
Not born, but made, to you
And since then, to the world you have not changed
Though inside I do not know if this is true
None can penetrate your façade
Your mask of beauty and charm
You will not relinquish your weapon of a silver tongue
As though you fear the whole world means you harm
You do not know how easy you pass
With wit and boyish charm
Against all obstacles you need only smile
And all your enemies are disarmed

A cigarette with a stranger
A just missed bus
The wrong number texted
A Facebook comment thread
This is modern romance
Who said romance is dead?

Hook up culture
Cheap cider
He has a car
That's the decider
A year or less
Down the line
You're nine months along
He's doing time
But you tell yourself
We're doing fine
Now you're wishing
You'd finished school
Instead of smoking
And acting 'cool'
Read this, think on it well
You have, one life, one story
Make it one, you want to tell