Mark Heathcote

Gold Star - 23,596 Points (22/03/66 / Manchester)

Every Second An Eternity Prolongs - Poem by Mark Heathcote

A face like chalk stoically cast
Hand on pane of leaded glass
Face peering in on times past
A stalker calls to harass.

She’s not calling to post letters
She’s outside looking in,
And you get to wearing fetters
Haunted, but not by boogeymen.

It’s “written” she’s not just beguiled
It’s all because you’re a superstar
That she wants to carry your child
And drive your latest new car.

She believes she has rights
She’s imagined the whole wedding
The honeymoon & magazine rights
She’s even picking out new bedding.

Now & again the doorbell is ringing
As she’s singing one of your songs
You feel frightened the air is thinning
Every second an eternity prolongs.

Topic(s) of this poem: poem


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, September 16, 2015



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