Crouch down low
constantly rocking...

I became impatient
(with myself...

A dry flower falls
from pages yellowed with age...

A token of love
and a promise of forever...

There wiz a maid wae auburn hair
an' oh sae fair o' face...

A little flower
sprayed with human pesticides...

In the shelter of my mind
through the window of my eyes...

I often wonder,
generally around 2.00 am...

Outside my window
a man and his dog stroll by...

My frustration weeps
on palette void of colour...

Summer holidays,
skinny dipping if you dared...

Bullet through the heart
two mothers pray in anguish...