Wednesday, 22 August 2018

Onslow Knows Now He's Kicked The Bucket

I miss the silence
The window box on my sill growing hyacinth and violets
The way the sun shone in and looked for me
Wondering warmly what I might like to be

Now it's dark and the noises in my mind
Ask me constant questions about the emptiness I hold inside
And the misery has eaten away at all my time
All that time wasted fighting my own mind

The sun no longer looks for me where I hide
And no one on earth would even notice if I died.

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