You said what goes around will come around
I did believe this saying was not true...

With oaken roots, an English rose did grow
from natures womb a noble tree was born...

often, a place I would be seen
was at the bus-mans club canteen...

..she had no knowledge, as
he swept her off course...

The atmosphere congealed-
with his silent mood...

The distance between two hearts
is shortsightedness...

I am restoring my dignity now;
left tainted by your conceited ethos...

A solo performance-
you played out; within me...

Anchored upon bare terra firmA
Drowned in a place of desolateD...

My ink runs slow, my mind subdued
So many words, are misconstrued...

Show us to a way so we can then show
train us in ways so as we can then train...

Somewhere-
buried deep...