No fancy paper, no fountain pen
not even a card from me to send...

A WHISPER AWAY
I can hear you all around me...

Christmas gifts, cold asses and sniffs
warm Christmas pud and whiskey nips...

Behind a cunning smile
I protect the real true me...

All this regret
emotions and secrets...

Understanding and attentive
your encouragement arouses awe...

I dig my heels into the dirt
'Cause this one's gonna hurt...

This soul lost, bides time to be uncovered
This soul stolen, holds back from being retrieved...

She likes solitude to dream in
she likes mystery in all it's guises...

(not mine, but just thought I'd post, it was...
SLEEP TO DREAM...

My tears in ink
through paper gracefully sink...

THE BRITISH SOLDIER
In a station in the city a British soldier stood...