Run Over He never ever told of his heart, Until one day on the road, She crossed the street and with a start, And from then on his passionate blood never flowed.

Different To Most Green hair, Hates juice, Loves rocking chairs, Wears jumpers loose, Adores dark, No need for Art, Likes to act like a lark, School plays? I don't take part, So why sneer, You're so young and immature, I drink beer, Your style's so pure, There's no need to be a winner, When all you do is lose, So ciao ciao you little sinner, And p.s do the laces on your shoes.

Prison Vault Fridays are meant to be the greatest day of the week, Not like all those stiff and proper Sunday lunches, Which are all too pathetic and meek, But my last Friday stunk like cow dung, Where you abandoned me and left me stranded, Where I was hurt and out of breath as if flung, So now when you call and suddenly say it was Jen's fault, I won't even respond but hang up, Because you, my friend, my enemy, You've trapped me in this sweaty bed like its a prison vault.

In the Closet Outside of Mara's bedroom, she could hear- nothing, really. Occasionally, an owl would seem to meander past, twoo-twooing ridiculously. But other than that, nothing. No wind. No rain, which seemed a miracle. Nothing at all, but the faraway snoring of Grandma on the other side of the flat. Pulling the covers up to her neck, Mara began preparing to switch her bedside lamp off; she had gathered up the courage for hours, each time attempting helplessly to switch it off. But, no, each time, she didn't have the guts. It was too scary, being in a dark room all by herself- Mara wasn't simply being fussy, it was the fright of not knowing if that thing at the back of the room was a shadow- or, or maybe something else... Mara, shaking a little, reached forth to the lamp when she saw something long, pointed and white at the end of the room, beside the wall. That's funny, she thought, only Tiger's there (Tiger being her tiger toy). She shrugged. Yet when she reached out again, it appeared once more. Almost irritated, Mara jerked her head round as sharply as if it was metallic. Then she saw it. It's eyes blinking, Mara stared at her stuffed Tiger toy, standing on all feet and growling noiselessly. "Whaa...." she whispered, almost paralysed in shock and mainly fear. "Tiger?" Recognising its name, the Tiger growled appreciatively, grinning from cheek to cheek and thumping its now massive paws on the carpet. "Shut up!" she hissed, raising one deadly straight index finger to her pursed lips. The tiger's jaw dropped but he retreated to a silent perch. "Good boy- erm, good Tiger now, more like." Mara reached over across the bed and over to the Tiger who gazed into her eyes like he was in love; she ruffled his thicker mane of hair. "Now," Mara whispered, "where shall we hide you from Gran?" To be continued...

His Eyes Once I looked into your eyes, That afternoon in the canteen although you wouldn't remember, And all if a sudden we were transported, I swear it, Into a Utopia, where behind you I saw the sun set like a flame in a hearth, And I felt my heart burn, sizzle then finally melt peacefully like butter being heated, So I considered, as you did not notice my expression and my dazzled mind, Did you have the same thoughts too? But of course you didn't, because behind me, the ogre snatched me and hurled me away into a forest of nettles, Where all I could do was hurt and cry.