She waits at the gate at each midday
with a gentle smile as we walk through
watching the children at their play
the way she once watched me and you
how many years as she faded to grey
was she calling to him from afar
standing and waiting there day after day
knowing he fell in that distant war
She lay at the gate one bleak midday
cold in the mud alone they say
she died at the gate one cold midday
but her face wore a smile as she passed away

I would have been going home tomorrow
but there is a flaw in the plan I was to follow
Home is already my life up here
to go back to Wales fills me with fear
Got a ****** funny dread
got my pals worried "Stay here instead!"
"Sell that Welsh car and buy another,
so what don't mind your Dad or Brother."
**** I have to go I know
bus and train, off I will go
music night to miss as well
my friends the most, But *******!
Only five days so why the worry
be back soon in such a hurry
truthful reason I feel this dread
I saw me in my car in a dream quite dead
So this ***** poem will stay all quiet
not put on facebook  friends might riot
get back here soon that is my plan
but please cross your fingers if you can  ;o)

Why did you wait to tell me                    that you knew all along
until you were dying                                  and did nothing
time to cleanse your conscience?        you didn't even clean me
you should have washed me                   just cold dry emptiness
I always  wondered                                     why were you quiet?
and never dared to ask                             Why did you let me hide
were you somewhere crying for me    alone under the stairs
or lying to yourself and  denying          on the day my childhood ended