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Aug 2013
Drawing blinds across our eyes
we are blinded to the beauty
trapped inside.
sideways,all ways and
in days of darkness we cannot see
and blinded as we are
we'll be
forever bound by that impotency of being in, yet still without,being a part of,yet still not seeing
this humble being begs to let the light in,get the blinds pulled,cull the nights that **** him,nights no longer thrill him or will him to deliver goddesses to altar tables.

Beds and fables
stories now, but I am still unable to forget,
more than millstones 'round my neck and iron ***** placed on my ankles designed to slow me down,
Oh how it rankles.

Time was,
life was younger and in that hungering I ate my fill and how the darkness of the night did thrill me so
to and fro.
A see saw ride
a fairground slide to my demise and somewhere now,behind the blinds inside and written on the signposts,hosts to my dependence on
the days long gone
where I had shone my light,
there sits a frightened child with wild abandoned thought, untamed adventures I have sought and fought against society
but now I'll be
the child that waits within for me.
John Edward Smallshaw
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw  68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)   
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