4 June 2012
What to write about?
What to write?
There's no inspiration
Within my sight.
People taking down bunting,
People leaving the room,
People clearing up food
No-one cared to consume,
People playing cards,
People on their phones,
As the party dies down
And the people come home,
A fly up the wall,
And wallpaper peeling,
By the side of the chimney breast,
A crack on the ceiling,
The news on the telly,
Host resting her feet
As she hears of people dying
In stabbings on city streets,
But that's miles away
And we're stuffed full of food,
We'll cry tomorrow
When we don't feel as good.
I don't know where this is going,
It's rambling on
But have I given a window
To my evening in this poem?
Of An Evening • Opuss № I