Grief is costly and I was broke,
Not you or him or any bloke,
Could have filled my pot of casting love,
He pulled my purse-strings from above.
That heavy weight of stress I threw,
I shrunk and stole myself from you.
That constant stream of words that played,
For them, a fortune I'd have paid!
I foraged deep for that sweet tune,
But woeful blues, they filled the room.
You wouldn't know the...
Monday 22nd June 2015 12:29 am