Hidden Talent
We know it will kill us,
But we do it anyway.
Huddled together,
Like this.
In this place of ill repute.
The townsfolk think poorly of us.
But I am sure
Someone in here,
Has read Rimbaud.
Written poetry,
Dreamt of Dante.
Sunday 5th December 2021 5:51 pm
Heather
I walk in wonderment,
Through these Winter streets,
Stalks of sodium glare.
I will walk forever if needed,
To be with Heather and her hyacinth hair.
If I walk these distances,
Will the past recede?
A year for every yard perhaps,
Until we are forever young,
In a Vampire’s lair.
Bloody kissing Heather and her hyacinth hair.
We are every bird in flight,
W...
Tuesday 26th October 2021 7:18 pm
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