Old friends…

Red wine & smoking,

a mellow night with my friend.

Memory lane stalking,

with a Mary-Jane blend.

.

Advertisements

Riding a Bye-cycle…

Once again his mood changes,

right out of the blue.

His contempt for me settles,

He’s the him I first knew.

It’s an emotional cycle.

It’s taking a toll.

It hardens my heart.

It darkens my soul.

.

Bad books…

I’m sleeping over,

Iv been run out of home.

It’s the doghouse for me,

My friends spare bed’s on loan.

I can’t shut my mouth,

I have opinions to say.

So I’m back in his bad books,

And sent on my way.

On the run…

The Angel digs his heels in,

and runs off with his brothers.

Left behind, I do not mind,

This time away from others.

My temper’s blown over.

The air is calm and clear.

When the Angel’s finished running,

he’ll come home,

and I’ll be here.

Wasted timing…

Bottomless eyes

staring deep into space,

while smoke slowly drifts to the sky.

Lovingly lost

deep in Nothings embrace,

unaware,  in the bliss,  flying high.

 

 

 

.

Mellow moments…

A peaceful companion

I find in myself.

Today’s woes are slipping away.

Smoke drifts through the air.

A forgotten warm beer.

Mary-Jane takes her place,

centre stage.

 

 

.