The Grim Reaper

You think I am responsible
I'm not
The flesh upon my weary bones
May rot
My putrid life is festering
Like sores
So you think I have no values and
No mores
Despising is the easiest
To do
For understanding needs the will
From you
And no man would invest his time
You see
But destiny has played a trick
On me
For I was once a someone in
These parts
But once the rumours spread we close
Our hearts
A man who's labelled does not have
A choice
They cast you off and take away
Your voice
And being out there's no way back
You know
And I have reaped what other men
Did sow

Pulse

Stop to feel a heartbeat
Everything is fine
Life is ticking over
In the hands of time
Moments lost in chaos
Wonderful release
After seek reflection
Time to make some peace
Life it should be balanced
Up and sometimes down
Swing or roundabout as
Merry we go round
Future's never certain
Yesterday is gone
Feel the rhythm pulsing
Moving you along

Tomboy

She's boy-girl butch
Her chinos and a shirt
So strong and proud
No trace of dust or dirt
And every day
In park at early dawn
No place to stay
From family she is torn
A real misfit
With nowhere to belong
She's used to it
Been told that she is wrong
Stay safe and strong
While you are sleeping rough
Oh boy-girl life
Means you need to be tough

…to be

Try to be more social
Mix with different friends
You should just get out more
Know how this one ends

People can be complex
Harsh and unrefined
So my usual reflex
Meetings strictly timed

You can have an hour
You, a little more
Keep you a distance
Tally up the score

Everyday I must see
One or sometimes two
Then I can get on with
What I like to do

People make me tired
Like to be alone
When your time's expired
I will wander home

Life is on the spectrum
Socialising's fraught
With a few controls though
Life is as it ought…

Tables and Benches

Sleeping on a bench
He is just a child
Growing up alone
Growing to be wild
When he is a man
Haunted by his youth
Look him in the eyes
Tell the bitter truth
Saw but did not act
Knew but did not care
Passed him sleeping rough
Had but did not share
Life is not a game
Life is so unfair
Tables could be turned
What if you were there

Words

If all the writing stopped
And all the reading ceased
My brain would end up popped
For words are my release

If I was still with you
I wouldn't be right here
But I have things to do
That you would not allow

And fame I do not need
My audience is one
I think that I succeed
If I have had some fun

And if my fame is found
Remember what you said
Why must you write things down
Just keep them in your head

Watered Silk

Scraps of disappointment in the tree
The warp and weft is hanging now in shreds
The fabric that was wrapped and made us we
Is nothing more than many broken threads
I brought my needle why don't you have yours
Repairing what we have a task to share
But you disdain my craft and thus my mores
And you would leave our life just dangling there
So I will weave a different tale alone
The warming red replaced with silver chill
For loving you has ultimately shown
The beating hearts to easily are still
My solitary silk is watered tears
My comfort cold to come in lonely years