Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

AIDS (Remove filter)

Recent Comments

Nigel Astell on Synchronicities of life
48 minutes ago

Nigel Astell on Happy Hours for the Edgeley Faithful Extended
1 hour ago

Tim Higbee on The Wind Whispers........
1 hour ago

Larisa Rzhepishevska on Celebrate St George's Day
1 hour ago

Tim Higbee on You
1 hour ago

Auracle on Shimmering Light
2 hours ago

Holden Moncrieff on Is it?
3 hours ago

Wordseffectbrew on PiƱata Earth
3 hours ago

leon stolgard on Is it?
4 hours ago

leon stolgard on Just You
4 hours ago

A poem for my late father, Bernard.

Twas the dawning of Father's Day, so said Facebook
Not a feeling was stirring, not even a fuck.
No flowers were planted by the headstone with care
Cos a mad pauper's grave can have no headstone there.

The children were restless, and not in their beds
Cos visions of suicide danced in their heads
Of white overalls and of tablets and shame
And sickness and pimping, a life quite insane.

Th...

Read and leave comments (1)

AIDSDeath of a parentHIVprostitutionsuicide

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message