with my glasses –
resting upon my nose
with my strange clothes
and a writing pad
for any amusing notes

you love to be loved
but in amongst the mess that is love
you only get abused

no car, no money, no flat
just a stash of stories
about some wonderful memories
and a soul happy to be free

i miss your beat
because…
your friendship is a holiday
with good scenery and acceptable heat

lost in a world of your own
and looking for someone else
someone who will call it home

i will sit here
just so you can laugh at me
you do not know me
and you do not care

i bite my tongue
words by the bucket load
but words i cannot say

fairy tale love does not come cheap
because,
fairy tale love exists in your head

you wanted to talk to me
but…
you did not want to walk with me
certainly not in my world anyway