Rose Tyler, Bad Wolf, blonde bombshell.
Through time with the Doctor she did propel.
She loved the Doctor and he loved her too.
If it's my last chance to say it,
Rose Tyler, I--

Jack Harkness, the flirt, the man of men.
He pops up at the Doctor now and again.
They met with a lie,
Now he can't die
Forever here now and then.

Martha Jones, the doctor, the woman that heals.
Her time in the TARDIS caused all kinds of feels.
She pointed a gun to save the Doctor's skin
Yet in the end, her and Mickey did win.
All kinds of fun and all kinds of sass.
Martha Jones, one badass.

Donna Noble, ah, how does one describe thee?
Married a creeper and set the Oods free.
Through the Daleks and Rose, it seemed to end the world
Until the Doctor's DNA and her's accidentally swirled.
Of all the companions, she was a supreme member
Most important woman in the universe,
Too bad she won't remember.

Of all the companions, no one remembers Ms. Astrid Peth.
Her one and only appearance ended in death.
She stowed away on the flying Titanic
With passengers, aliens, and angels that were satanic.
Astrid wanted to travel and see the stars.
Her death seemed to add to the Doctor's scars.
He wasn't able to bring her back in the flesh
For the Doctor was the cause of her final, last breath.

Finally we come to little Amelia Pond.
Waited twelve years for the Doctor's bond.
She sat on her suitcase, face raised to the stars
Thinking of Jupiter, Saturn, and Mars.
He came back when she was supposed to marry Rory
But she still snogged the Doctor, being predatory.
It was Amy and Rory Pond in the ends
Even when the stone angels did descend.
Some mainstream Whovians say Ms. Pond's overrated,
But after all, she was the girl who waited.

Melody Pond, also known as River Song
She was fair, cunning, and strong.
Amy's daughter, but looked years older.
Amy wouldn't believe her no matter what River told her.
River Song, a time lord herself.
But even her story went to the shelf.
She was put in jail for killing a good man.
But even then, with the Doctor she ran.
The Doctor and River, hands fastened tight.
She still didn't want to let go with all of her might.
Dr. Song and the Doctor were on different tracks in time.
Hopefully, she'll be back, witty, fierce, and sublime.

The mystery. All the loose ends come to Clara Oswald.
The latest companion to be installed.
She once was a woman, mind in a machine
But now she's in the flesh, cruising the scene.
Oswin Oswald was a governess and a barmaid
Until she came back, unashamed to be afraid.
Even though she is a mystery to be solved,
Here's to our angst, Ms. Oswin Oswald.

But one day all the companions will be gone
And the Doctor will be alone again.
He will think of all the lives he's withdrawn
Hoping for a lifelong friend.
Though his intelligence, sexiness, and brilliant mind
There are no other like him, he's the last of his kind.
The man who travels around kissing strangers;
The impossible doctor meeting some painters.
Many wonder how long he can cheat the clocks
But until then, he's just a madman with a box.

After climbing off
the school bus
she grabbed the sleeve

of your coat and said
I want to talk to you
and so you stayed behind

as your sister and hers
walked on ahead
and her brothers ran off

in a game of tag
she released your sleeve
and brushed the hair

out of her eyes
what is it? you asked
walking beside her

along the side of the road
the winter afternoon darkening
what was Roland

saying to you in class?
she asked
Roland?

yes Roland
in the last lesson of maths?
you looked over

at the tall trees
becoming tall giants
as the sky began to dim

he was talking about his sister
you said
then why was he looking at me?

perhaps he finds you attractive
you replied
she slapped your arm

with her hand
don’t talk nonsense
he wouldn’t find

Marilyn Monroe attractive
if she sat
on his bony knees

she said looking at you
with her big blue eyes
you rubbed

your injured arm
playfully
he was saying his sister

had found his collection
of ***** magazines under his bed
you said

a car whizzed by
and she turned
and shouted back at it

some words her mother
would have slapped her
for saying

she sighed and said
why can’t you tell me the truth?
you stopped and stood facing her

her blue eyes gazing at you
searching yours
as if she’d left something there

on a previous occasion
he said he didn’t know
what I saw in you

her eyes enlarged
and what did you say?
she asked

in the sky over her shoulder
the moon was beginning to shine
in competition

with the weak sun
I said you snogged
pretty good

you said
she slapped your arm
and walked on

no
you called out
I was only joking

she stopped
and turned
and glared at you

I said you were the best thing
to happen to me
since God created Sundays

you’re lying
she said
all right

you said
seeing her eyes watering
I said I loved you

you said
looking at her
wondering if her hand

might slap you again
did you?
yes

and what did he say?
she asked
he just shrugged

his shoulders
and drew a picture
of Mr Parrot on the corner

of his maths book
she was silent
and looked by you

at the incoming traffic
then kissed your cheek
leaving a damp patch

like a small oasis
on a dry landscape
of your 14 year old skin

conjuring up images
her mother
would define as sin.

On Christmas Eve in the 1970's everyone got ******.
At office parties random couples paired off and snogged.
Bus drivers waved their passengers through,
they didn't want your money.
Even they were ******.
Probably the coppers had a few
down at the station.
Glass of sherry anyone?

If you had one year of love,
and then you had to say adios,
should you be glad or morose?

Sure, if it ends, it’s not what I’d hoped,
we just weren’t destined to be betrothed.

We had fun, we were close and jocose,
we snogged until we practically choked,
and we did ALL the fun things that were gross,
but our forte was that we felt safe, I suppose.

Now, I’m not saying it’s over, but I tend to diagnose things,
and while I wouldn’t say that we love overdosed,
I would guess that we’ve shared more love than most.

I rolled over and the sun skulked through the curtain,
That ****** gap, I knew it would be a burden,
With one eye open I stretched, and reached the ash tray,
My last cigarette, "I might quit today,"
Checking the time,
Quarter past nine,
And again I'm late for work.

Head thumping and regrets from last night,
Makeup down my face, mmm what a sight,
Who was that guy? He's gone anyway,
Probably picked him up on the way,
Jumping out of bed,
Smoke clouding round my head,
I dragged myself to the bathroom.

I promise myself everyday is a new one,
Sitting on the toilet, what have I done?
I dread to check my texts and call log,
I wonder how many people I snogged,
I jump in the shower,
It's now half past the hour,
Shall I just call in sick?

It simply isn't an option,
I need to get up and function,
But everything is a struggle,
I wonder if there's any ***** left I can smuggle,
One more for the day,
I'm not an alcoholic by the way,
It's just a little assistance.

In case you were wondering, I only went,
Out twice this week, all my money is spent,
You can't blame a girl for having some fun,
After all, I worked hard for my sum,
Anyway, I better be gone,
Work have been ringing my phone,
I guess I'll see you next time.

For Tracy

I wish I had the *****
To say this to your face
But I'm all over the place
Maybe someone will find my diary
Rip out the pages
And say these words to you
In a nicer accent than mine
But you'll know it’s me

That day after we left school
And I got inebriated
In that club (CIU affiliated)
You walked out, arm in arm
With Tony the ****
And all I could do
To show my hurt
Was sick down my shirt

At Jackie and Teds reception
In the Golden Lion
I saw you looking at me
With that smile
You kept for children
And catalogue men
I didn't have the *****
They still ain't dropped
After all these years baby
After all these years
But if they did I wouldn't have stopped

So hear me now baby
Through his posh inflection
The plans I had for us
You need to hear of the direction
We were headed
The dreams I dreamt for us
I mourn the time we snogged
In the alley near the allotments
Where the drudgery of life
Could not get through to us
If the moon had changed its cycle
I'd have met your ******

That bank holiday weekend
Just after the storm
I had my Uncle Bobs van
A stereo to die for,
No tax, (it was applied for)
One windscreen wiper
But three good tyres
And I knew you were an optimist

The only thing that stood
Between the Sheppey Isle
And our bliss
Was a country mile
The A13, my hesitancy
And ability to miss or miss
That caravan was ours
For three whole days
I was flush with cash
Seventy two pounds sterling
In coins
We could have been King and Queen

The boot was well stocked
With 2 bottles of Polish *****
From the **** shop
And a pocket full of 10 mil Vallies
I nicked from your Mum
At that knees-up
When your grand-dad died
I could have held your perfect hand
And crushed your tiny fingers
If you had lied
About your love for me
Which you would have only done
To save your heart from breaking

You have always been my hero
You shat on the swings
And did other things
That no-one dared
But you never
Got smaller
Unlike
Me

So when you hear his posh voice
Think of me
Think of the caravan
Think of Leysdown
Then look down at the fallen chair
Look up at my limp body
Do what I never could

And cry your ******* heart out