Dave SmithWhite Poems

All my friends are dying.
All my friends are gone.
I am stood here crying;
How will I carry on?
...

I'd checked-in, a generic hilton,
In Xanadu one day,
For a light repast of stilton,
And a comely cabernet.
...

Can't live without love.
Can't love without life.
Can't earn without work,
When the virus is rife.
...

When the underdogs, and the demagogues,
By fear and greed go feral.
And the fascists rule, the abiding fools,
In a time of peril.
...

Are you dying, Mr. President?
Or is it all fake news?
If you're dying, and it is evident,
Will you accept it's true?
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I gave up my old car,
When it gave up me.
So I'm riding shanks' pony,
To new misery.
...

There's a squawking, talking parrot on my shoulder.
There's a monkey on my back, you cannot see.
There are rabbits with bad habits, filing folders,
In a mind, defined like a blind beaurocracy.
...

When you got no-one,
To go home to,
And you dread the moving walls;
An empty space, you cannot face,
...

He was an ancient hipster from the USA.
He had a dodgy smile and his hands might stray.
He was the top man on his game;
But when his secret got out it would snuff out his flame.
...

Before the human flaw of war, is healed,
And all the wanton blood congealed,
Reflective man must never yield,
But pick his fight with sword to wield
...