Going Home

Coming home,
To quiet family,
From my past, and my present.

From Manchester,
From busy University,
For my present, and my future.

I enjoyed,
The time I spent,
In the quiet family home.

But now,
I have to leave,
To the lonely room alone.


An Ice Cream Sundae Made For Two

In the Lakes,
On weekend breaks,
An old couple usually sit on the docks,
Not much need for sun blocks.

Every single year,
They hold it dear,
That trip to Windermere,
It keeps their mind clear.

The ice cream van,
The owner, a man,
Knows them well,
So he heard the death knell,
Of the bell,
It left an empty shell.

An old man,
Alone and weeping,
May as well be sleeping,
As he eats an ice cream sundae made for two.


Sitting alone in a crappy Manchester bedsit:

He sorts his odd socks,
He builds his own Fort Knox,
Cans clutter his room,
No one knows but they all assume.

He plays on his Xbox,
He doesn’t bother with the locks,
Playing games like Doom,
No one knows but they all assume.

Nobody ever knocks,
No one thinks he rocks,

Rope hangs from the moon,
The skylight twinkles with delight,
This evil room will take another life tonight.

The Path

I wandered into the field just up the road from my village to consummate my new found loneliness. I had never been there alone before so it seemed a decent place to start.

Through the long grass I glimpsed movement; a burgundy jumper flashed at me from within the miniature jungle. I would say it called to me, but that would make me sound cheesy; I was just lonely and wanted someone to talk to.

As I approached I saw her face; she was beautiful. Her hair floated gently on the breeze as she laughed. At the time I wondered what she was laughing at but as I walked on I saw her dog. She had been laughing because it had fallen in the pond. Absolutely soaking, it had shaken its fur dry onto her boyfriend.

What a shock! I headed back to the path, alone.