Show bit of backbone will you?
No-one cares a bit.
Stiffen up your top lip
Coz no-one gives a ****.

Don't pour your heart on paper
It only serves to show
Others, their own pain in rhyme
Why do they need to know?

You're a man and you'll **** up
But your problems are your own.
They're not the masses *****
Broadcast from your phone.

To wallow in anxiety
Is boring, sad and sick.
Just shut up and get on with things
Stop being such a *****.

Swirling its obscurity to envelope and disorientate,
Veiling the path both for and aft,
Creating shapes of mystery in the dense abstract.
Folk emerge and vanish as characters through the billowy grey,
Faces lost and found only to be lost again.
Everywhere is where it is,but where you seem to be
Yet I am shrouded just the same to those who strain to see.

The journey of the half-seeing eyes finds only fleeting refuge,
Streetlamps burn their blurry beacon for the weary and the lost,
The huddled and the homeless comfort in the glow within the gloom.
Yet peril lurks in the unknown nooks where illumination fears to dare
Hurry on before we discover what is waiting there...

I could make up lots of things just to throw at you,
But this isn't a movie or a play and we won't get to do it again.
This is real and the truth is whatever look I'm giving.
I loved you and still do.
And the pain is knowing that it isn't enough.

Songs I sung and films I watched will puncture my skin,
When I recall them without warning.
The sea has receded and left me beached; the tide was too fast.
There is no plan yet for how I stand up.

I wish you well because the man I want to be would say that,
But there is a child inside that wants what is not permitted.
This facet of me is threatening the peace.
This is real and I do not wish to leave an indelible scar in the shape of a mistake.

You are the great love of my life that never was,
Neither love nor life.
Think of me; don't think of me,
Let me see you but stay out of my sight.
I don't know how this can go on from here,
But I know it is real.

I shall be destroyed.

Stray dogs and sweethearts both wander through the street,
Appearing lost to everyone that they should stop and meet.
Balloons and broken dreams do fly away from those who care,
Leaving them with tear-stained cheeks as they just stand and stare.

It's difficult to know, right now, which category I fit,
I've tasted love's sweet bitterness and had my fill of it.
But day's cold light has shown me that although this truth I know,
Sure as the night preceded it, my thirst for love will grow.

She is a spoon.
She is bright. And when I look at her, I see myself reflected.
But it is not the face I completely recognise.
Sometimes she shines and sparkles when she does what she does best.
She is a comfortable position into which I neatly fit.
She yields to reveal an illusion of vulnerability when touched with the heat from my finger tips.
I have lost my spoon of late.

Empty people fill a room,
Of dusty dreams, it’s like a tomb.
They stand and sip, all hieroglyphic,
Thinking this is just terrific.

A bite to eat, an idle chat,
She never did, well fancy that.
Michael’s looking well these days,
It’s been a very tricky phase.

I step outside to get some air,
And find a woman standing there.
She’s on the edge, with tear-stained cheeks,
Her heel has snapped, her breath, it reeks.

She asks me if I like her dress,
I take a look and tell her, yes.
She smiles at me and drawing breath,
Without a word, leaps to her death.

A drop of scotch, a swig of gin,
Which bedroom is my jacket in?
Andy said he’d run me home,
But he’s in the bog and not alone.

Parties are the strangest things,
Nothing moves unless it swings.
I guess I’m just not in the groove,
Time, I think, to make a move.

Just as it becomes too much
It becomes nothing at all.
And one is left with autumn leaves
That gather where they fall.
I thought that I had moved your heart
But you saw me shifting dust.
I had a diamond in my hand
How I fidgeted and fussed.
Now I stand on bended knees amongst
The proof of parties past
And know the glitter on my hands
Will never, ever last.