Maybe light was once kind
To the baby moth.
Perhaps, it never fully learned
How it had changed
Into the enemy.
Is this why it must return again?
Flap its fragile wings, 
Once more, against the pain,
Saying, 
Even until the very last time,

                  “Be as you were”

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Jimmy Is A Ghost

Jimmy is a ghost

Of the man he used to be

He sits in the rain

Drinking second hand tea

And he hopes that his kids

Will never have to see

His hands outstretched

In an ignored plea

Yeah Jimmy is a ghost

Jimmy is a ghost

Off of Oxford Street

He has nothing left to barter

He has nothing left to eat

Just threadbare dreams

And train...

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