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.



2010



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