An angel and a unicorn In the blue sky Just caught my eye Is it my imagination playing games?

I wear my heavy armour It weighs me down From the copper penny to the golden pound It is hard to hold me Echoing sounds

I found my empty place My own headspace

The Yorkshire rose gently holds the Lancashire rose Striking a remarkable pose A longtime since the War of the Roses did end

I feel like the world is watching me Eyes open wide My naked humour Laid out bare Catches your stare

A twisted mind Hallucinatory rhyme Smoking weed I cannot concede Mouth moving at speed Sprouting out

Is a poem our only fate? When the world has finished it’s nightmare raid Broken bricks Burning wooden sticks

The secret army We cannot see Open their mouths silently They will not appear Yet, silently we hear them speak Their words of absurdity

Trying to catch a snitches eye With angel wings Flying high As many hands Try to grab a snitches eye

Treacle toffee hearts Sticky, runny, caramel centre A brittle, tender outer shell

A kiss before bed The boy coy said He kissed the girl coy

The world is broken and can never be fixed I fell in love with your broken bits Those are the parts that best fit you

Say what you see It’s meant to be easy Like an arrow pointing to the answer It is straight in front of me I turn it upside down

Standing on the cliff I don’t want to slip What sort of wedding is this? As we kiss Is this wedded bliss?

I’m intertwined I can be wine and dined I stretch from my roots to my flowing leafy hair I’m so confident I’m a little minx

Shrinkage and inflation Really is affecting this great nation As we trawl the shops Variety and choice has sadly been lost

Cotton clouds A total bliss Leaned down to the green earth To almost kiss Caught in between was blue and pink sky serene

Temptress Rose Stunning in the shadows of the dark Breaking many demons hearts Splitting them into two Her eyes covered in their drippin

The earth has taken me I linger in the underworld The dead grasping at my delicate feet The ghouls and awaken dead Worship my porcelain feet

Mr Book Started talking to me Reading the many books pages It was a mystery to me Reading through his glass monocle