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soul in torment Oct 2013
The cathedral Windows
have been broken
for
hundreds of years
Stained glass windows in churches are made from pieces of glass not whole panes. Word play
soul in torment Oct 2013
Why wait

until forever

when

we have ...


here and now
soul in torment Oct 2013
Oh mister bear it is not fair
why did it have to rain
we can't go out and run about
or ride our bikes again

What can we play this rainy day
to stop us feeling blue
there's cars and trains and aeroplanes
or puzzles yet to do

There's chess and draughts or just for laughs
there's joke books by the ton
or plastic blocks and puppet socks
and paintings to be done

There's board games too like risk and clue
and snakes and ladders Ted
Monopoly look come and see
their here beneath the bed

We could just see what's on tv
or on the radio
we've dvds and chart cds
chose anything you know

With pop and chips and salsa dips
and pillows for our backs
we will lay still and eat our fill
and listen to the tracks

Then sing along to well known songs
and dance around for fun
for as you said dear Mr Ted
What need have we of Sun

For you can find ways to unwind
as long as you've a friend
Like Mr bear whom loves and cares
for you until the end
soul in torment Oct 2013
Women in stilettos

make my *****
ache...


to be rubbed.
And old one reposted and as before take it either way saucy or painful
soul in torment Oct 2013
You lay there
with bed head hair
and
morning breath...

Dried drool on your lower lip

the remnants
of last nights take away

still present in your teeth

and all I can think
Is

how beautiful you are

and

how much

I love you
In a world of Photoshop such true beauty is so often lost
soul in torment Oct 2013
You wanna know the real me

you haven't got the patient's
**** psychiatric nurse and her nosy questions.
soul in torment Oct 2013
you are the smoke that fills my lungs
and draws from me such wretched cough
That lingers on my mouth and tongue
in simulated kisses soft

You are the stain on fingers clenched
that clutch at strands of wisp-ered prayers
who's presence from my grasp is wrenched
and from my lips my sorrow tears

You are the stubbed out cigarette
that burned away to nought but ash
and neath my boot the end was met
a love you freely turned to trash
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