Wednesday, 15 June 2011


I thought it was pouring out of my eyes,
like led that sets where it falls,
thought it was bleeding from my pours,
as certain as day bleeds into night,
I only sang your praises, I only wished you blessed.
a melody so certain, that it sang straight from my chest.

But the rigmarole, the draining droll,
the production line and the cynical smile,
these things bleed from me too,
I am caught between flood lights,
one of love, one of boredom,
but equally bright, too bright to forget.

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