The things sent to try me
flew by me,
the past went so fast and
the future won’t last
very long
bleak?
I streaked like blue lightning
across the darkening storm clouds
and was fished out of the river
spent,
the past went so fast.
My gunpowder was louder when
I was young and stood prouder,
the cordite was alright until age
wrote the page on the face of this cliff.
and stiff are the joints
which all points
to a solidified end.
a bit like directions to Scunthorpe
which is.
somewhere up North.
© 2017, John Smallshaw.
