You lay in your nest like the wingless bird.
Watching the seasons spiral by,
Held by the frozen crystals of the grey sky.
Your howls for sympathy have gone unheard like yesterday’s favourite curse word.
Content to sit in the sidelines as your fellow fowl just jet off by.

You watched them stiff necked as their flocks migrate,
Off to better shores with their suited soul-mates
Surely they’d think to take you too,
But all your attempts were too little and too late.
You failed to navigate the flight of your fate.

Your borrow that was once perched at the top of the tree,
Has now been overgrown by the leaves of history.
Leaving you to roost and think about what’s right.
But the big question is;
When the stakes are high and it’s do or die,
Will you fight or will you fly?

It’s just a thought, tied in a knot,
About the changing of the winds,
And what it brings.
The new season comes and goes,
And I enter it via planes and trains to the place I call home.

It’s just an idea, put there on a plate,
And fed to whoever would like to translate it.
When my wings float over the smoke of the sky,
I think and I think but I can find no reason why I always come back to the place I call home.

It’s just a theory seen through wide eyes but not seen clearly.
When the train runs like a die and my thoughts fly like wild fire.
I still can’t find what it is that pulls it off track,
And takes me back to the place I call home.

It’s just a guess, it’s nothing more.
It’s just a dot on the other side of the shore.
Waving me in and guiding me over.
I look round and it hits me that I’ve just drifted and flown where those new winds have blown.
All along I should’ve known they’d take me back to the place that I call home.

One picture, that’s all I have.
Barely enough to identify her from Eve.
But I know from what I have seen,
That she is all I need.
Drawn out anxiously awaited replies,
Endless time spent picking my words,
Avoiding any slip that will cause her to log out and leave.
Black text on a white screen shouldn't mean this much to me.
But I analyse and re-analyse her words etched into the pages of internet history religiously.
Every sentence read in ‘she loves me, she loves me not’.
I do this utterly uncertain as to who she is.
Her mystique has possessed me.
For all I know she’s sat next to me.
But I do know we’re one in the same;
Two twenty-first century keyboard lovers.

I thought I seen his face today,
But it was gone to some place between time and space.
Into the vast infinite skyline where the upper echelons wine and dine.

His soft brown hair flopped here and there,
As he used to declare his love for the fresh British air.
His black European eyes would stare into the clouds telling me that one day he’d take me there.

Whatever was hidden underneath the façade, it was hidden well.
Between the confines of his mind,
That must have been hell.
His own personal prison cell.

The words he spoke bounce off the walls as they echo through my haunted halls.
I think I see his shadow yet, when I wake in the night, cold with sweat.
But when I turn on the light there's no silhouette.
He’s gone.
He’s out of sight.

When I think of what I could have said and what I could have done.
I realise I could have never understood where it all begun.
But when I think of what I could have said and what I could have done.
I realise I could have saved someone’s son.

Sometimes I think I know
Why the other people go
To the place where all this pain will mend.

Where melancholy does not linger
No blood upon their finger
To the place with eternal time to spend.

In a far distant land
They'll lay upon the sand
Under rays that cannot burn them
Below waves that cannot submerge them
To the place of beginning and of end.