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Sharon Talbot May 2019
I never really liked Hugh Grant,
'til I saw him in "About a Boy",
It's not as weird as it might sound;
This lonely kid likes to hang around
And play with Hugh Grant's toys.

Wait, I didn't mean THAT! I meant CD's,
And he teaches Hugh about life...
Hugh's a loner & his life's a mess,
The kid's mum is SO depressed,
Thus their neuroses fit like peas.
(in a pod)

See, jerks in school chase the boy each day,
‘Cause he wears old, hippie clothes.
One day he hides at Hugh Grant’s pad,
Listens to music that’s kind of rad,
So he shows up every day.

Hugh and the lad start hanging out
He buys him trainers, shows him what to wear.
But soon, the kid wants Hugh for a dad,
And though it makes Hugh selfishly sad,
He kicks the poor kid out.

"Killing me softly" is the Mum's fave song
So the other kids beat him up.
In a school concert, Hugh sings along.
The mom is thrilled and cooks some Tofurkey,
Hugh joins the crowd; Thanksgiving is quirky,
And Rachel Weisz picks him up.

She’s got a son who’s kind of ******,
Over his Mum’s divorce and he tries to be Goth.
He roughs up the boy and mom is stunned,
'Cos Hugh Grant lied about having a son
So she tells him it’s a no go.

In the end, Mum doesn't commit suicide,
Though the kid DOES waste a duck,
With a loaf of Mum's 10 lb., whole wheat bread.
Everyone laughs and it clears their heads.
Mum & Boy and others get glad,
And the boy's mum finds him a new dad

Rachel forgives the boyish Hugh,
After seeing his good deed.
He loves the kid, the mum and her.
Everyone gathers for Xmas at Hugh’s’;
He wears a paper hat and agrees:

He's no longer an island and needs other folk.
The Boy gets a pal and Mum no longer sulks.
Everything is saved by the new Hugh Grant,
And at least he doesn't wear LEATHER PANTS!
A silly "review" of a great film: Inspired by Hugh Grant’s lame leather pants in that film about an over-the-hill 60’s singer in Love Actually, and then his much more believable character in About a Boy.
Callie Zeph Feb 2019
A message
from someone I once knew
As if no time passed
But everything has changed
Innocence lost
years younger again
Giddy and reeling
You probably just want attention
But that's all I ever craved
"I'll reply just for fun"
But I want you to
Want me
I am unsure why
I wish I was a better person
Someone you expect
Me to be
Who are you
It's been a long time. Maybe it means something. Probably it means nothing.
Amethyst May 2016
Your skin smells like summer camp,
it lingers on me like chlorine from a pool in July.
Your laughter radiates through your bones like electricity.
I used to tell them all about you-- the boy with the bright eyes that seem to smile before a smile can form on his lips.
I am crazy, all in the best ways and all for you.
I identify as what you call me when I am between the sheets with you.
Your little girl, your little ****, your *****.
All for you.
Lightening, lightening, you are bolts of lightening.
And I'm afraid you've struck something in me because I am on fire for you, darling.
Sophie Foster Sep 2014
Face to face
Expansive uncertainty in the shadows
If I hold on to you
I might not be lost into it.
Can’t we create enough light
To force it to retreat?

But you are a part of it too
The steady ocean in your eyes
Froze when I wasn’t looking.
And I lay here, lulled away from shore
Watching shadows pull down the sun.
featherfingers Sep 2014
You are hollow and sharp--
        not exactly hollow, but full of holes
        where your guts should be.

You are rust and cruelty,
all ancient bloodstains and missing
hunks of steel.

You are afraid of your angles
        the wicked serrations of your tongue.

You lick your own wounds
to taste blood wondering if
it really tastes like you at all
or more like the leftover bits of flesh
still stuck between your crooked teeth.

        But you don't frighten me, Bonesaw;
               your razor blade arms are nothing but home.
Sophie Foster Jun 2014
In the reverberation of ecstasy,
Before one unfolds into two,
I Love You

Silence fills the space between our lips.
I believed the flicker in your eyes.
But it was my own reflection.
     Ricocheted off ice.
Sophie Foster Jun 2014
Imperfect, beyond perfect,
and everywhere between
barefaced bliss and bittersweet.

And I told him I loved him.
     I know.
          And he held me.

Let me trace that word
between your shoulders.
A single tear to baptize the silence.

— The End —