I walked away. The fan was too loud.Blaring in my face,freezing my arms.I opened up a word document,started typing this tripe,hoping that I’d be able to block it out. It ain’t even warm in here.Tyranny. It hurts, please make it stop!Remove the fuse, I will. Cut the wire.Throw it out the window.Maybe get the dog to piss on it. It freezes me, stresses me. Eats away at me. It fucks with any remaining sanity.I write to gain s...
This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.So bright the birch leaves on my lawn,So soft their drift in weak sun's blaze;A spark of flame on Autumn's breath,Now damping down with faerie glaze.I scuff my boots through pixie tracks(The little gits keep sneaking throughMy lovely lawn, all dew-bejewelled;I wish they wouldn't, but they do).Behold! What's this? A mushroom huge...
As dying jewels of autumnal airDisplay their languished colours fair, ‘Twixt earth and sky the wraiths o’erhead Do drop their garments as a bed. The clothéd arms outstretched, aquiver, Do grasp the watery sun’s weak shiver. Those that were once full heavy laden, In former springs once gentle maiden, Drooping now the gift of life, Though slumbering deep, potential’s rife. And there! What scrabbling, little scurries? What w...
