Monday, 13 June 2016


A note lies on a counter, it's laid there for a couple of days
Hasty words of beauty scrawled across it's blue lined page
The edge is tattered, having been torn
From a notebook in which had been scribbled and drawn
'Twas written at speed and torn free in haste
Then into a sugar bowl carefully placed

The leaf's now stained and the ink's now blurred
You'd struggle to distinguish a single word
But he'd not, the one who'd watched those words fade
And now reads instead from the impression they've made
Words never spoken but imparted still
Thirteen of them offering a bittersweet pill

He'd tried hard to cry whenever he'd brewed up
Rereading those words as he'd filled his best cup
Those words, as they'd ebbed and they'd flowed 'cross that page
Those words that once sated his deep, savage rage
Drew him in tight while they pushed all else out
And shone a small light on where once there'd lived doubt

The walls we erect and the fences we build
Are the barriers behind which our futures are killed
Speak and speak and speak some more
Talk, impart, confess, adore
Speak of all things, both the great and the small
Those things that you feel, tell others them all

Open your gob and let the words spill
Don't think, just be honest and keep speaking 'til
The ears of the other, the brother or lover
Or sister or father or offspring or mother
The one to whom all of these words really matter
Hears the truth that dwells deep beneath idle chatter

One day soon he'll tidy up
Maybe even wash his favourite cup
He'll smile one last time as he reads what she wrote
Sigh a deep sigh and crumple the note
That day won't be long, already he's calm
But it can stay there for now, it's doing no harm


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