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 Oct 2014 TonyC
WILLIAM WORTHLESS
cancer is a killer of that there is no doubt
liked a paid assasin taking people out
creeping round the body spreading all around
just like a contract killer dosent make a sound

taking young and old when it feels the need
has no shame or morals just its deadly deed
we must find a cure to stop its killing spree
then the assassin know as cancer will no longer be
 Oct 2014 TonyC
bones
......Breathing Space......
She left when she realised he
Was closing more doors than agreed
When he asked her for why
She said look at that sky
That's the breathing space my lifetime needs.

......Thoughts......
When they're finally free of their chain
And falling about you like rain
Don't be wasting concern
On a fear they will burn
They might not fall your way again.

......Next door's cat......
There's an old man next door in the flat
He shares with his skinny pet cat
Whilst nobody here
Has seen him this year
His cat's grown disturbingly fat.

......Popular......
Some people are popular folk
But none quite so much as the bloke
Who waits in the park
Each day after dark
Selling sweet smelling clouds of blue smoke.

......Dead Fred......
The problem with my Uncle Fred
Is he keeps coming back from the dead
'It's a bit ****** cold
Down in that hole
Stop putting me back' he said.

......Reverend Ted......
The problem with Reverend Ted
Is he keeps rising up from the dead
'Heaven and Hell
are all very well
but I'd rather be home' he said

......Pop......
He was just building up to a scream
When his head fell apart at the seams
Days at a time
He had lost to that rhyme
Now he'll never find out what it means.

......Madman with gun......
I once knew a man with a gun
That he aimed everyday at the sun
As it sank to the ground
He fired off a round
And went to bed thinking he'd won.

......Madness pt2.....
The last man alive raised his gun
and declared open war on the sun
as it sank to the ground
he put the last round
through his head convinced he had won.

......Moondrops......
The night the moon started to drip
A silver drop fell from it's tip
And carved in the dark
The sweep of an arc
So fine we thought heaven had split.

......Holidays on the moon......
We holiday each year in June
On the back of a crescent moon
In a house made of cheese
Where you eat what you please
Last year I ate the front room.

......Gravity......
Ever since the day of my birth
I've been jumping for all that I'm worth
It's jolly bad luck
That gravity *****
When you're trying to leave planet Earth.

......Venus......
I've been asking directions to Venus
And it seems that the space in between us
Is an awful long way
So I'm leaving today
On a rocket that's shaped like a frankfurter.

......Martin's Limericks......
With a limit of only five lines
The first two of which have to rhyme
With the one at the end
Martin my friend
You nail it every time.

......My Poor Limerick......
From an ivory tower of prose
It's a long way to look down your nose
At my poor limerick
That you'd beat with a stick
If you could without creasing your clothes.
Thought I'd lump them all together, you might have seen a couple before...Sorry if so.
Thank you Martin and thank you Kalypso for your company :o)
 Sep 2014 TonyC
Muggle Ginger
If you are uncomfortable when you look in the mirror,
keep in mind:
We spent thousands of years
trying to convince the earth
she was flat.

We wrote her maps as evidence of the things we saw;
and she believed them.
She cried tsunamis, and had earthquake breakdowns.

Keep in mind: the Sun never gave up hope.
The earth will keep spinning and breathing
the star-dusty space void of encouragement.

Next time you look in the mirror
and second-guess your potential divinity,
remember you will keep shining and living.

Because the Sun is out there
believing in you,
compensating for lack of the human capacity
to treat each other empathically.

You don’t need proof or approval
to be exactly what you are;
Eventually everyone will see
your infinite beauty.
I've been thinking it's time I retired,
acquired a rucksack to ******* my back
and returned to the slow track.
Hitting the road and taking the load off my mind,
with many needles to thread and a hay stack for my bed
I'd be content with it all,
to drift into the colour of fall and ever so slowly disappear,
never here for long,never there or anywhere but everywhere
I would be,
free from the trap laid by polite society.
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