This will take a little time, he sits atop the one seat that shall have him
And attempts to see it all rather differently
Shuts his veteran eyes, waits, and watches – the oranged sun split kind skies, boys and girls dance a chant to plastic toys
Stored within his inbuilt ability to memorise
And rewrite a multi – imagined story for only those who live it the most
Recognise
A cherry – cola toast to this insatiable and gut – wrenching appetite which cannot but divide
That the part to hurt the most – an incredible method swimming within and around what’s been oh so unfairly, fair typically agonised
These words tend to sit when he least suspects it, and, to think, he fucking Loathes to read
More chance of Di Caprio winning an Oscar

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