every time i express myself you attack me
whenever i talk about myself,
you say i am selfish

a bully,
a person who is so inadequate
so low,
that they seek validation

you are wicked
a wicked person
for whom,
life has no lesson

drop the smile off,
with the children at the school gates
look at where we live
but we could not possibly live there

not very desirable
that is a wonderful turn of phrase
but what does it really mean
surely it is prejudice locked in a cage

people write my poetry
i just twist the fruit
on the words they say

Sunday sunday was special talking sexy undressing, sleeping, love making giving and taking ate a meal and drunk too much … More

somehow you have beat yourself up inside
just to find out who you are
you spend years huddled in cold places
just to find out what it means

if i have a grudge
well you say,
that is because of autism

i tried to keep it in that milk bottle
but the loss was to great
and the bottle was too small