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LizO Jul 2018
I write for the words,
Not the glory.
I write for the pleasure,
Not the fame.
To frame a piece of my life
That’s important
And to ponder its place
In the game.
That, and for making myself laugh! But seriously, I often need reminding it’s not about likes!
LizO Jul 2018
The last glass of wine
set aside unfinished.
No longer welcome
in my life of exploring.
With the delusion of pleasure
discarded,
I can finally see
the World’s true colours.
LizO Jul 2018
The Moon said
I’m sick of this sh*t!
Playing Earth’s supporting role
Is not my only trick.
That ****** of planet
Can go and get stuffed,
With my entrancing silver beauty
I might just leave it in the dust.
LizO Jul 2018
Can I live with being a twit?
As someone who doesn’t quite
fit
among the sensible crowd
who get things done
and those I find to be
ever so loud
about all their successes and skills
within the adulting world
that lacks any thrills!

Could I live without the joy of
swinging on a swing
or ignore the sudden urge
to attempt a highland fling
or pass on the chance to
loudly yet badly sing?

Put that way, I have to admit,
I can definitely live with being a twit.
LizO Jul 2018
Turning, twisting,
Flowing in the breeze,
Destined
To be held by my hand.
The one last link
To a love
Incomplete.
LizO Jul 2018
A tired old man,
Trying out a new plan,
Was caught in the act
With no time to react.

Video surveillance
Stared him in the face,
In a house
That wasn’t his place.
Though he’d hoped for a gain,
He now felt shame.

But he had his excuses ready -
A senior moment
Made his mind unsteady!
Who wouldn’t believe
A tired old man?
LizO Jul 2018
One tear was all I needed
to forgive you.
One tear was all it took
to see your pain.
My all is what I gave you
when I saw it,
Because it showed me that
we do both feel the same.
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