Psychedelicate

The Delicate Little Ones

The delicate little ones
Turn upside down
Inside their fragile little homes
Gravitating over the earth.

Trees, uprooted, lie.
Monochrome televisions flicker
As the delicate little ones
Put price tags on objects of no worth.

The delicate little ones
Pass on their viruses
And die little deaths
Before their defences can react.

Lollypop ladies stand.
Constellations fade
As the delicate little ones
See family heirlooms ransacked.

Almost Back To My Old Self

Every day, every year.
Almost back to my old self.
Every wine, every beer.
Almost back to my old self.

Every word, every verse.
Almost back to my old self.
Every last, every first.
Almost back to my old self.

Every lyric, every song.
Almost back to my old self.
Every right, every wrong.
Almost back to my old self.

Every love, every friend.
Almost back to my old self.
Every start, every end.
Almost back to my old self.

Every photo, every print.
Almost back to my old self.
Every colour, every tint.
Almost back to my old self.

Every costume, every cue.
Almost back to my old self.
Should they repeat me on BBC 2
You’ll see me back to my old self.

Her Necklaces

She wears purple and pearl
Emerald green; a girl
Who hangs with the world
Wrapped round her neck.

Years after she was born
In her will she’s sworn
Never to compromise or pawn
The weight round her neck.

As the accused play for sympathy
And the victim acts guiltily
Her matchmaker stares critically
At the stones round her neck.

Black’n’White Flag

This life is doing me no good.
I’m getting more and more bitter.
If I were me I would,
So I give up. I’m no quitter.

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