5 entries | | | | | | Blockage ! | wrote | | I've got a lack of inspiration I've got a lo of consternation No need for obfuscation I've got writer's constipation
Suddenly, out of thin air Comes the germ of an idea And words flow everywhere Help, I've got verbal diarrhoea | | | | Old Aberdeen | wrote | | Oh Mammy this London is a wonderful sight, People out boozing by day and by night. They drink lots of barley and eat lots of wheat, With lots of the locals layed drunk on the street.
Half of them young ones, and the other half old, Both generations have peddled their gold, But for what in this big city that I have seen, Id rather be back home in my old Aberdeen.
You asked me to describe how the girls dress, Mammy they look like a scarecrow in distress. They dont wear very much up | | | | Fact or Fiction? | wrote | | With one light switched off, another is switched on When one door closes, another opens The wrls revolves with it we ae revolving too Life , the ongoing process of evolution As Mother Nature turns Like a mechanical machine Scorned by man, the weapon! Adam was given a leaf not a gun! Creation was the Garden of Eden, not World War One nor Poverty Where is Eden now? Fact or fiction, what is religion? | | | | The Reapers Quil | wrote | | The Reaper's quill is giving me a chill As he scribes up my spine the time to kill The thought of him makes me ill.
His prudence is unmatched And he won't leave a scratch Carrying the book of Acts He'll deliver life's final acts.
Ending my life with a swig of my flask The liver burning with decay Kidneys failing without delay Heart stops its beat As he carries me off my feet. | | | | The Stranger, Who Is Me? | wrote | | Who are you, who gazes out From deep within the mirror? I know there should be recognition But only see the stranger.
Long black lashes framing Big hazel-brown eyes, They hide so well the pain and hurt That exists behind the mask. Hidden thoughts, a hidden world Others can never see. What is real to you, and you? Is not my reality | | | | 5 entries | | |
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