This world, it's such a vile place
In every heart, on every face
Hate and anger,I see it there
Pain and grief, it's everywhere
In

A Pear Unborn

It must be something to do with the day
the month the year,
and not me.
It must be...
The wind that sweeps ashtrays

Jack's a Poor Boy

The bell of the dead came a ringin'
and the whole of the town was asleep,
the grave digger just kept a diggin'
he

I slip outside the room although I know I'm meant to stay
I sit at the top of the staircase at the end of the hallway
The

Knowledge Versus Bliss

Books scattered like limelight in a house of occupants
Suffering in the premises where my nostalgia