Monday, 11 April 2011

After London Bridge

As the years have grown up

Some faces look sorry

For castles they haven't built

Like dried up infants.

And go silent

Eyes landing uneasy on me

When I revisit my old town.

Walls done up in shiny plastic

A make-up mask of desperate happiness.

They gave me an engine

But I have legs

They gave me wine

But I have blood

Are just words without wings

Who grow into nothing.

And I keep walking

Remembering no one

To chase some more butterfly skeletons.


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