Comments about Grace Blue
On Tonight's Programme
In the stocks today, shackles round your ankles,
Hear ye! Hear ye! Do listen to this story.
A flicker of eyes, a jerk of the neck.
They fear. Nothing pretty to look at there.
A spider web of scars that do not fade,
Red and dusted with flies that once had names.
They collect dust too, same old, same old,
That's what your stories are now.
Black and white, no depth between your lines,
This is how it is, that is what they see.
Sometimes they feel a sharp prod,
A wild stir of fleeting emotion,
A tear in the ...