Posted: August 13, 2007 in Poems

I don’t know.
The vacuum that I now exist in
receives no paint of attention,
no insulation or porcelain replacin’
crashes, smashes and crushes
on physiotherapist’s or survey lady’s blushes
broken plates and distant appointment dates.
Tomorrow’s Silence may be golden,
but only for those who bought their freedom.
(probably online!)
But what of you,
are you still beautiful?
givin’ life to cuties?
and faith to your Creator?
and the mortgage maker?
I know I miss you,
good people do not pass
without at  least a whisper.


  1. .... says:

     Well i can\’t be too good then I make a right racket pml, but love those last three lines…hope you are ok honey, sleep well if you can! luv n ((((hugs)))) Pen xxx


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