Darren Hobson Poems

we have forgotten to ask why,
we just accept it,
in our naive lazy ways,
we just get on with it,
...

it is just water,
clear, pure, cold
simple in form,
hard to hold,
...

and the world,
at times,
harsh and barren,
empty and cold,
...

Clock is ticking its making that noise,
Like a rickatickaty tick of old boy's toys,
It's winding you up as it's winding down,
It's literally sticking out its tongue like a circus clown,
...

It's the simple things
You never said
Your imaginary lullabies
Went to your head
...

we all have memories,
some slightly bad,
some good,
we all have photos,
...