Grey gloomy and beautiful
The sound of rain and tin.
Smokey scent and tree tops
The little birds still sing.
Cool crisp and twilight
Rain drops steady drum.
My mind so ever peaceful
I won't wish the rain to stop.

It's 4am but you're not sleeping.
Your friends went out, but you stayed in.. Again.
The lights are off, but it feels much darker.
Your mind is screaming you're a coward.

Let's go back to where this almost ended.
My last poem forever pending.
You held me close and stopped me comprehending, the life in hell I'd one day be spending.

I am afraid of the scariest of things.
I am afraid of the past and what the future might bring.

I am afraid of your eyes they all have a story.
Some of pain some of love
And some just ignore me.

I am afraid of judgement the things that you see.
I am most afraid of what my friends think of me.

I am afraid of the dark, my mind and of being alone.
I don't like to remember things that happened at home.

I am afraid of all this and of so much more.
But the one thing I know is I'm brave to the core.

Remember me in the summer breeze when the wind blows calm and low.
When the summer fields bloom with colour wheels and the sweet Magnolia's show.
 Remember me in the autumn leaves when Noon's an orange glow.
When the trees are full and the moon is bright and squirrels dance in the forests bows.
  Remember me in the winter freeze when the snow falls slow and kind.
When the children pray and sleigh bells play to bring on  Christmas time .
  Remember me in the spring  filled trees when daffodils meet the eye.
When rabbits jump and lambs wobble on bent knees and crooked thighs .
 But remember me when we finally meet and the ocean drifts on by
when the curtains close the world unfolds and all that's left is you and I

The tragic misfortunes of the victims of hate
Could not control their haunted fate.
Romeo and Juliet bound in chains of doom
sprung from a fountain of a toxic fued.
Fiery tybalt and his sword of gold revived a battle that remains to be told.
Romeo in anger and full of love killed the boy and a riot set off .
Now the hate grew ever more and more and soon enough the families where at war !
Which to end a tale in death and tears for these ancient families it was never clear.
That there love made love turn into hate.
Now four lay dead in a tomb,
from the battles of the caplets and the montagues !
And never was there a story of more woe than this of juliet and her romeo.

Scrambled words on toast.
gulping down the hot coffee roast.
Place mats or beer mats face down on the table.
Sweaty palms trying to keep stable.
Ear drums and kettle screams.
Topsy turvy kitchen dreams.