Not Long Left
Not Long Left (17.05.1981 / The Molten Core)
Biography of Not Long Left
Not Long Left Poems
School Dinner Day
my belly is rumbling, and is grumbling for food, waiting for one o'clock thinking what dinner will choose.
End Of School Day
like prisoners finally freed, the children flee from the school, restrained minds, tied up tongues, untied.
Rain On My Window Pane Late At Night
a single droplet of rain, trickles freely down my window pane, stopping for a few frozen seconds, as if mapping out its next move.
On Leaving The House For The Very Last T...
As I close the door for the very last time I hear the sounnd of creaking metal grind. The rubbing of the wood upon the floor Sounds of which I shall hear no more.
Parents Evening (Watching From The Windo...
i sit by my window, watching in apprehension, fingers clenched tight, feeling sick from the tension.
A Parents Night Out
A few miles into the journey we loosened the shackles of parenthood. Conversation devoid of children led to lenghy silences that highlighted the distance between us. Slowly buidlings began to grow outwards and
'Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here'
if a mind becomes unmanageable in the eyes of the unimaginative, does this pemit the latter, to rip the heart from the home,
Smoking Room, Pre Morning Meds
He cried inside and I saw his child hand in hand they walked around the lake, he stops and scatters white blossom into her untamed hair.
A Poem Every Living Thing Can Relate To
we are born, we live a little, or a lot,
Priorities- A Word Of Warning For Charit...
Don't call me just yet Let me Take a shower first So I can polish and perfume
A Dead Birds Feather Offers Comfort To A...
A broken battered bird limp winged and misty eyed Nestled itself in the bed of the grass.
Rationalising The World Through Words
Rationalising the world, through words, hiding emotions, in metaphors and ryhme,
Candle, how brightly you burn how much I yearn for your couloured spirit. Your flickering flames
Invisible Then, Invisible Now
tear drops fall with each direction, each tear tells a tale, each day we play with words, to analyse our actions.
My Big Brother
my big brother,
is so great,
he reads me stories,
and gives me cake.
he gives me big cuddles
and sloppy wet kisses,
he jumps in big puddles,
and has two orange fishes,
one called Tom and one called Jerry,