Tag Archives: despair
A daylight moon guides my eye As far and wide I look on Rowing against the wind Holding the link for safety Taking it up and away From deep descending despair Until another goodbye You disappear from view
awaiting the succulent pancakes, watching the leeks and daffodils, abiding the resilience or resistance to the human race agony, marching on again to sackcloth and ashes, any way it’s a toss up; perpetuated by old thought, old minds, killing the … Continue reading
Don’t you love the sweet smell? Solvent in the dark, On a table top of despair, With red clinking bottles, Feeding rough stubble people: Plum certain not to be here In future years.