Government of Spite

No matter how fate
batters me, denies me,
what she gives others,
I shall not fall to my knees,
and bow my head in defeat.

Wednesday Morning

Fog shrouds my garden,
Hiding its end from view,
The grass wet with dew
As a tabby cat stalks
The path and disappears.

A Soulless New World

Silence echoes
In wasted cityscapes across
Our modern world,
We no longer create,
Where has all the beauty gone?

FGR

Never have so
Many men berated a
team for winning.
But Forest Green Rovers
Are still in it, somehow

CV

New Resume tricks
Crafting the way i’m seen
By other people
Feels like reshaping my
Very own mythology

Dreaming

My tired fingers
Dream of resting on your skin,
My head on your chest.
We’re sleeping off busy days,
Forgetting tomorrow’s work.

The Cold Room

Ice creeping inside
Inch by inch from the wall.
The cold is coming,
I can feel it in my bones,
Slowly taking me over.