sometimes this vein,
it breaks and bursts,
entirely filled with grief,
for someone lost to early,
to the man aboves,
harsh greed,
to remembrance of the better times,
when we let each other breathe

sometimes this vein,
is angered,
as am I, most of the time,
with the wishes and the grants that,
I know get left behind,
and I just don’t want to leave you,
it just doesn’t feel kind,
but the man in the sky wants me,
so I have to go this time

sometimes this vein,
it makes me cry,
sometimes it makes me scream,
it wonders and it ponders,
what does it all mean?
as I wilt and then I waiver,
between this life and the next,
sometimes it makes me wonder,
sometimes it stops in its tracks,
why your life and not mine,
I long to have you back

it’s afternoons like this that make me reminisce,
of sunshine beaches and cigarette smoke,
and the fact we almost kissed,
it’s a train track by our caravans,
covered in dusty mist,
it’s the fact you taught me swear words,
when we were just pre teens,
you call me one of them teasingly,
I can’t be offended if I don’t know what it means

it’s afternoons like this that make me reminisce,
of crashing waves and salty skies,
legs dangling, sat on the wall,
and eating fish and chips,
feeling the air outside of a car window,
with just my fingertips,
a summer soundtrack made,
just to relax on an old cd you mixed

it’s afternoons like this that make me reminisce,
what it would have been like if we did,
or had, touched each other’s lips,
but your little sister then sat between us on the bench, and I guess it was too early anyways,
you were twelve and I was ten

hello autumn,
it’s been a while since I’ve last seen you,
and my how things have changed,
the worlds been turned upside down,
completely rearranged

summers over now,
and all we’ve seen is decay,
but aren’t you the time,
when things are meant to go away?

i see it in the burning orange hues of your everyday, these golden browns, so beautiful,
is change in many ways  

and change is fast,
it just carries on,
when you want it to slow down,
but in the end,
without our souls,
the earth keeps turning round  

so hold me close,
with the time you have,
that I know I won’t get back,
as hindsight is a horrid thing,
when looking at memories you now lack

but autumn, I know that I had,
no chance or choice is making those,
sometimes time is all we have,
just like the measurements of prose

as when that time is over,
as my time comes to an end,
the clocks will still go back,
even though time is pretend

and someone will replace me,
they will have their turn,
as this never-ending machinery,
continues to work and churn

so keep your loved ones by your side,
as you don’t know how long is left,
and in this moment think a while,
of those souls who’ll be bereft

as others souls will still remain here,
even when you are long gone,
as they will still remember you,
just know, they have to carry on  

as we all will wilt like leaves one day,
scattered along the floors,
but know when one life closes,
another life opens its doors

i did not fly again

it is spring and the bees are in my head again,
the bees are in my head,
they buzz and buzz and buzz and buzz,
and sting and sting and sting

the black fogs in my head again,
a cloud across my eyes,
it throws me off the tilted edge,
and beckons an ominous sky

the waters crashing waves my friend!
a mask of grey mist covers thines eyes!
god knows for me I wish the end!
god knows! god knows!

but do I really?
oh good lord! just get rid of these bees!
so you do want to live?
oh good lord! just get rid of this buzzing!
but they’ll continue to buzz and sting?
and they’ll bring this mask of grey!
and throw you off that tilted edge!
to fall into an ominous sky!
where the waves are crashing!
and your beginning to drown!
god knows for you I wish the end!

no lord I do not wish the end!
it’s just a little bee!
no lord I do not wish the end!
it’s just a little buzzing!
no lord I do not wish the end!
it was just a little sting!
it will only last a while, I promise,
I promise lord, I do not wish the end!
good lord, this cannot end!
I am praying lord, do not let this end!
you cannot let it end this way!

it is bitter in this retreat,
to share a bunker of ones past,
it is not that I am with desperation,
but rather that I feel my wings have been firmly clipped

though, I stay here frightened,
thinking what if I become cocooned and stranded? will I only ever remain stagnant, still?
in an oleifera spinning, a chrysalis left to decay

is this the way that they intended it?
rather to not have my wings attached to me,
but rip them away from the bones in my back so that I cannot fly again?

I do not know if I will ever fly again