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Kelly Selvester Sep 2012
Like a ball of glass, being thrown by children,
The heart can take so much.
The small child that is always stuck in the middle,
Strangely familiar, trying to take back what's theirs.
Wild eyed, fearful,
Wishing they hadn't brought it out into the playground.
The big bullies laugh gleefully, menacingly,
Growing like shadows on a stormy night.
Intimidating, misunderstood,
Always knowing the laugh is never on them.
Then the vultures of gold, phones and hair extensions,
Feasting on the ugly duckling through their masks of paint.
Adapting, leering,
The chain where you are always the weakest link.
But that person who throws the stone,
Releasing the heart from the ice tomb.
Different, unique,
Your friend.
Kelly Selvester Aug 2010
Dropping a glass, its nothing much to you, only pick up the pieces and no one will ever know the damage had been done

Dropping an event, its nothing much to you, only make a few phone calls and no one will ever know your presence had never been

Dropping a call, its nothing much to you, only check a friends mood and no one will ever know you told them something

Dropping a friendship, its nothing much to you, only say a few false words and pick up another tomorrow, whilst leaving the other to pick up the glass pieces, dropping the planned happy event, desperatly waiting for that call knowing that this friendship will never be fixed, so you are left, to pick up the broken pieces
(C) Kelly Selvester
Kelly Selvester Aug 2010
Straight and crowded are lined the walls of white decay
Through sickness and in health do we too stand here and wait
For better or worse, the latter seeming only to often
Silent and still, crowded and hushed, another wheeled by
Black demons stand shoulder to shoulder with empty hearts
Muttering those words which lift the uncompleted soul away
We think these places are here for help, not for sadness
But littering this country, there they stand, never empty
(C) Kelly Selvester
Kelly Selvester Apr 2010
Vale Decem,
Honore res quara,
Alter altera,
Vale Decem,
Vale Decem,
Vale Stragem,
Valde Temptua,
De glorio....
Vale Decem,
Vale Decet,
Honora res quara,
Alter cerna...
Grata tunc, usquera, emani,

The translation from Latin....

Farewell Ten,
Because of your honour,
It's well deserved,
This other one,
Farewell Ten,
It's well deserved,
This other one,
This other one of you,
Farewell Ten,
Farewell Carnage,
Intense trials,
Concerning pride,
Farewell Ten,
In a very proper way,
Because of your honour,
The next seperation....
....Is by force of arms,
Flow out all the way with joy,
Farewell (x12)
this is a song from doctor who, copyright of the BBC and Murray Gold
Kelly Selvester Mar 2010
Anyone can hold a dart and say "I challenge you" on a Friday night...
...that's mostly because that dutch courage has helped them
Anyone can hold a microphone and say "Hi" to packed-out house...
...that's mostly because that dutch courage has helped them
Anyone can hold a gun and say "Your coming with me" to a theif...
...that's mostly because that dutch courage has helped them
But one thing that not everyone can say is "I Love You"...
...and no amount of dutch courage can help you with that
(C) Kelly Selvester
Kelly Selvester Mar 2010
Grasping hold of the glass i watched the night clock off,
Draining the paper held within my fingers,
Slipping down my throat till the tide had long gone out,
Feet tapping along with the throbing of the night.
I sit there observing that figure of male perfection,
Happy and cheerful, dancing this memorable night away,
And I stand, lowering my glass, stumble my way towards him,
Where he notices me finally, I smile, he smiles too.
I sway with him, and the others, always looking into the depths,
Losing my mind, feeling lighter than the balloons that hang freely,
And I think an uncontrolable thought, to reach out to him,
But as the moment passes, I swig another mouthful, and everything fades into nothingness.
Kelly Selvester Mar 2010
Snake tounges rattled and hissed words of poison mechanically,
With green-eyed monsters lurking beneath their skin,
Circling the rumours of suspicion onto those of white blood,
Like a frightened rabbit in deaths doorway to car headlights fell.
The slithering tale encapsulating innocent yet friendly ears,
Smearing their venom amongst those of lowered fighters hands,
Trickling down the innocent white hart's hands,
As though regarding herself as this murderess.

Flight of fear, fighting the dark, losing, chocking, drowning,
Yet tales of talk were not in vain, but yet they failed once again,
Smearing that of lies over white walls, black onto red,
Trapping the rabbit in the snare, as though to **** it in the shell.
My friend, would you tell the old lie? To children so high,
To fall so low, by that of snakes and their hungry green-eyes.
Line 8- 'Tess of the D'Urbervilles' by Thomas Hardy
"She regarded herself in the light of a murderess"

Line 9- 'Dulce et Decorum Est' by Wilfred Owen
"He plunges at me, guttering, chocking, drowning"

Line 12- 'Julius Caesar' by William Shakespeare
"Treat him as a serpents egg, and **** him in the shell"

Line 13- 'Dulce Et Decorum Est' by Wilfred Owen
"My friend, you would not tell to children ardent for some desperate glory the old lie"
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