Winter

Chapped lips glow red

Frost kisses dead leaf debris
The snow and sun blind

The Living Dead

Fluorescent-lit room
He plants a lump in my throat
Where is your heart now?

Nostalgia
She once was a raw dreamer
A pretty soul in her garden
With a beautiful naivety
She had no uncertainties.
She grew with the flowers
Now her life is just dour
And she misses all the old dolls
Underneath her old bed
She once wanted to grow
To see all the world
Now she wishes once more
To be that young girl

The Melody
He bends over his coveted possession,
As the night falls,
Working tirelessly as his fingers expel the pain he feels.
He strums out his story. He picks out his words,
As he has no other way to speak them.
Theres nothing to explain, the beautiful ambience,
An ethereal connection, a drugless high,
Goosebumps ensure, and the lights burn out his head
As his foot taps sub
con
scious
ly.
He articulates the emotion in notes and patterns,
As he hits the climax, and the music beholds him,
Consoles him.
When it ends, it does not leave,
Playing over and over in his sleep.
The melody will dream on.

Ill
a thousand gaunt and jaundiced 16 year olds
in council homes drowning in
tears,
their parents cant hear