Sometimes there is the need to just walk away,
Another time to run, to not delay.
In moments when the heart feels torn,
A path unknown, a love reborn.

With every step, a choice we make,
To hold on tight or to forsake.
The journey’s long, the road is wide,
In love’s embrace, we must decide.

When shadows fall and doubts arise,
Look to the stars, the moonlit skies.
For in the night, a guiding light,
To lead us through the darkest night.

Sometimes we walk, sometimes we flee,
In search of where our hearts should be.
But in the end, love finds its way,
To bring us peace, a brighter day.

I’m not an American but what’s the score with Trump,
A figure so polarizing, he makes the headlines jump.
From tweets to rallies, his presence looms large,
A captain of controversy, always in charge.

Policies and promises, some kept, some not,
A legacy debated, in every thought.
Supporters cheer, detractors sigh,
In the court of public opinion, the stakes are high.

Economy, immigration, walls and trade,
Decisions and actions, in history’s shade.
Love him or loathe him, his impact is clear,
A chapter in politics, both far and near.

Golden sun sets low,
Waves whisper secrets to shore,
Peace in twilight’s glow.

In twenty-four, the streets aflame
a tempest brewed, a nation’s shame.
Southport’s wounds still fresh and raw,
three children lost their lives, a flaw.
False whispers spread through cyberspace,
the stabber’s name, a twisted chase.
Muslim, seeker, both or none
the spark ignited, chaos spun.
England, torn by fear and hate,
far-right voices, venom’s weight.
Riots surged from Southport’s core,
a wildfire leaping, burning more.
Arson’s dance, a crimson waltz,
shops looted, streets in tumult’s pulse.
Police van torched, officers besieged,
a fractured nation, wounds unseized.
Islamophobia’s venom seeped,
racist fervour, hatred steeped.
Disinformation’s murky tide,
Russia’s whispers amplified.
Yet amidst the flames, a counterforce—
Stand Up to Racism, voices hoarse.
Anti-fascists, Muslims, too,
clashed with rioters, hearts askew.
In this fractured hour, we seek the light,
to mend the rifts, reclaim the night.
For England’s soul, a plea resounds:
heal the wounds, find common grounds.
I stand against the darkness,
where prejudice and anger collide.
My words, a beacon of empathy,
a bridge across the chasm wide.
For love knows no division,
no borders drawn by fear.
In unity, we find strength,
and hate dissolves when love is near.
So let us rise above the chaos,
embrace compassion’s flame.
Together, we’ll extinguish hate
and heal the wounds that bear our name.

There once was a mosquito named Jack,
Who bit in the small of my back.
I scratched and I swore,
As she flew out the door,
Leaving me with an itchy attack!

****** Mosquitos – Literally