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 Sep 2017 Michael Angelo
Lucy
Albion
 Sep 2017 Michael Angelo
Lucy
Transient summers,
Forbidden Bluebell fields,
Tough times symbolise the pouring of ales.


Manicured lawns,
Cider drinking Saturdays,
Routine discussions about the sun and rain.


Hijinx down the watering hole,
The great unwashed congregating on Market Day,
Smog penetrating the lungs,
Forlorn eyes, social decay.


Leaders of austerity,
Riddled with oppressive policies,
The tedious endurement of the morning commute.


Sirens cut across Westminster,
A quintessential rave anthem,
Boxing Day sales,
Sheer pandemonium.


Revelling in satire,
And curtain twitching,
Reading racists newspapers,
Disenfranchised youth.


Icky dance floors with raging hormones,
Breath heavy with hops and acrid tobacco.


**** drops and winding waists,
Ladies bathroom, evil eyes exchanged.


Sundays spent hanging,
And Mondays depressed,
Holy communions,
Cladded in your best dress.


Suppressed thoughts,
And baited breath
An Albion filled with oppression and dread.
He's backwards - impractical, practically
snapping from the woefully composed laughing.
He's properly combating the raft of phantoms
bathing in his atoms; at least that's
what he tells himself when the
rabbit breaches the furthest fathom.
It's a rerun he's now seen some obscene sum.
The captain is a mad man and refuses to fasten the cannons.
Life lines turned into talons and punctured his rat lungs
leaving him breathless in a land of gasping rascals.
There's no need to speak when factions keep acting
like fractions; can't you see that classes are shackles
meant to keep you distracted via splashes.
Love the orange light
as you sit in the dark,
Eyes wandering over
a familiar vista, dear heart
aches with nostalgia, street-lit
trees move silently, a breeze you
see from your perch
but do not feel in the warm dark.
Love of the comfort
brought by night, when tucked away
at home in some nook or cranny, a place
you cherish for reasons no one knows why.
Innocent, wondering,
Staring out
at the night sky, space
is cold but
for those fiery infernos;
And the stars in your mind.
I crawled off the Muni
Gagging from too much liquor
Smeared ash from the ground on my face
Sitting next to the Quick Stop, with a quarter of a Miller
I waited for you, Aimee
Someone like you
Innocence that should surround you
You were painted with hues
The roaring of armed pedestrians
A home made of paper and broken glass
You sat next to me for someone to listen
And I was going nowhere fast
I listened and I heard your pain
Too young to know it's not normal
Sweet thing, don't give up
Resist the inevitable
These people will dye your skin new colors
And time will show no mercy
I've waited a lifetime for you to be here with me today
For someone to listen to this advice that I wished someone would have told me.
Hearts in hands we divide then we break down and we take flight.

No cause for fight the blind we lead, we shine the way, the sky we need.

No wings we crave it's faith instead, to take that leap is it in you're head?

Can you wake the dead? Can you lead the fallen?, Raise some hell the devil's callin.
Grigori
Sorry I've been inactive uni has been keeping me busy :)
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