Ah yes the evening has an ending like a Barbara Cartland novel
His eyes burned into hers like sapphires
Glazed with the amount of special brew he had necked watching Bolton wanderers.
They had won, so he fought with fans instead of the Mrs
In the pub after the game he saw his quarry
She was a prize
His strong arms unfolded, her softly yielding body helpless as she was being swept away on a tsunami of passion
Well dragged outside with a bottle of Auzzie white.
The black eyes from his earlier exploits reflected on his away team polyester shirt in the fluorescent lights of the pubs smoking area.
Then he dropped his pants revealing a porridge gun capable of crop spraying.
Moments later she was awash with a spermiferois goatie after almost choking herself on a double portion of spangle after it fired both chambers
It was love!
Then the bell for last orders sounded and he was lost as to walking the Bourneville boulevard with her or grabbing a last pint with his mates.
It had been a hard day
But a true hero he did the Captain Oates and left with her The promise of captain's pie and a scotch was on the cards back at her place
But her night of passion was not assured
If Dibnah **** didn't strike as his alcohol to blood ratio was in the wrong place.
On Monday he would be but a memory
Next week it's an away game
She will miss him

Its been 2 seconds since I thought about you last,
your final words and dying eyes,
your inability to speak, to say "I Live in you"
I miss that hospice bed and the bloomed gardens
of which you had the best view of.
I miss that last drive home,
it was silent because you were always
the life and soul of us all.
But most of all,
I miss your white body,
lifeless but still present,
soulless but still beautiful.

Its been 2 minutes since I thought about you last,
sitting in the front room hunched in excruciating pain,
watching meaningless TV but it took your mind off of reality,
your masked laughs and your baggy pyjamas that you lived in.
I miss your shaved head, it prepared you for the battle,
you faced the poison head on
Like you always did.
I miss your yellow skin, filled with venom,
your weary face.
But most of all,
I miss your character called Jim who faced everyday like it was somewhat normal.

Its been 2 hours since I thought about you last,
your booming laugh and horrendous screams,
your roars and cries,
your short temper and piercing orbs.
I miss the word "sorry" and your forgiving whisper,
your sausage fingers that would wipe away
my Tsunami tears telling me to "be yourself."
But most of all,
I miss your quiet glances that looked like nothing, but meant
everything

Its been 2 years since I thought about you last,
your grass goatie and soft demenar,
Your protective wolf stance and your idiotic voices.
I miss sitting on the table annoying you.
Your music makes me feels immortal.
I wish you were immortal.

It been 20 years since I thought about you last.
I hate cancer.
I hate God.
I despise that your not here.
But most of all.
I love that you were my smile at the end of my day.

Now

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