He does love his mum
But she’s got a cruel tongue
And she hit him too hard
She hurt him physically
Along with his dignity
The punishment
Too harsh for the crime
He’s not forgotten
But has partially forgiven
Easier to forgive
As the years roll by
But from time to time
The inner child cries
Why me, why not the others
How come I got
The worst of our mother
Not all mums are angels
Some are just strangers
At home

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Dreams and Schemes

Her little bit of bling

Is the only thing

That keeps her going each day

He doesn’t wear bling

Booze is the thing

That keeps him on his way

Down at his club

He feels as if he is

King of all he surveys

When he’d hurt her

He’d say

In that awful brash way

Go get yourself a treat

He was loud, he was brash

And loved splashing the cash

On diamonds and sparkles

And pearls

She’d trade them

For fakes

And had cash

In the attic instead

Bit by bit

Week by week

She’d squirrel it away

In his head all was rosy

In her head she knew

He really doesn’t know her

At all

So today at 2.30

When she knows

Where he’ll be

She’ll take her bags

Hopes and dreams

And meet Jack on the corner

As planned

She loves him

He knows her

They’re made for each other

This is her stuff of dreams


March 2018

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