A Winter’s Morn

Unlike the Bard,
Who liked the summer,
I’ll compare thee
To a winter’s morn —
A rainy thunder,
A midnight breeze,
A wild hurricane in
that deep blue sea.

‘Cause you’re much more,
Than mine eyes could see —
Than words could breathe,
Whilst this heart doth bleed.

(cough) (cough)

Every breath of every day —
Is filled up to the brim,
With your — absence.
Cheers to that.

Battle Worn

There comes a time,
In every man’s life,
When he returns,
From that battle —
And all that he needs,
Is someone; some — One —
Who understands his scars,
And doesn’t ask —
How and Why.

Just Another You

Isn’t it strange —
How every person you meet,
Is so foreign on the shell,
But — deep — down,
Is just — the — same.

The same fears,
The same doubts,
The same hopes —
Smiles and tears.

The same craving,
The same deceit,
The same love —
Unrequited albeit!

© Written 7-Oct-2018