How I wish I owned a little glass salt pot With candy pink salt Where button flowers grow

A Consultant Private Detective made of ultimate fictional fantasy His one truly great arch enemy No other than Professor Moriarty

The world is having a change of mind A change of heart We are fed through the earth’s media line We are changing to a new norm Informatio

Sexual appetite Quenched after midnight Drinking sparkling wine Touch and feel Light to hold

The world is not just black and white Not as straight as a dime The world isn’t flat No need to grip on by our fingertips

In the deep white crisp snow My nakedness pure and freezing cold The frost glistens as if made of colourful jewels

Saving Christmas Rushing to join the gigantic queues To vaccinate you Against every form of Covid Too many to name

Dead end The end of the road It is the last sign Shattered by bullets It’s the end of the earth

My Christmas present has travelled far Chosen from pictures on a bright electric screen Modern technology With love from you to me

Swirling twirling taking my time My dreams so twisted Like a horror show in my mind My own personal picture show

I am your favourite fairytale I am your favourite fantasy I am your dream of fantasy clashing with beautiful reality

The droplets of wet paint Dripping slowly down the cold walls Onto our naked skin Intoxicated by the lust of our sex

How I miss sparkles and glamour How I miss glitter and shiny These are not the colourful jewels I can feel and touch

The world is upside down Wrong way around I am lost I am found That poetic sound rings in my ear Piercing They sing to me

As I tentatively take a step forward Are we pushed? Do we tumble? Do we fall? Now we’re just knocking on the door

As l look at you I see a mirror image of me I see the good The bad The happiness

The poetry rap I’m just sitting here Totally word bored I can’t think of anything to write

I don’t want pain as my friend Soon I will not see clearly For this blinding pain hurts me

All that covers my nakedness Swirling red ribbons Weaving and woven My naked skin peaking through

She is a lonely puppet on a string Sitting on a comfy chair Waiting for someone to pull her delicate strings