Skeleton Dreams Skeleton dreams At night I close my eyes And I see your name Written in the skies When we meet, We'll greet And the planets will spin, All out of place, Sending me higher as I fall from grace Where are you? I can't see your face Though you're closer than it seems, But I already love you, Since I saw you dancing in our skeleton dreams Unknown lover your face is so still The smile lovely on you tonight There's only the serene The calm and unseen, Scrawled across your skin I try to dance, lets begin I reach for you, But you're untouchable, Only bones and dust, So near but so far, In our skeleton dreams. I wait for the day I'll walk across the way And there you'll be You'll look up, smile that smile at me And I'll be yours And you'll be mine, Filling my #life with all kinds of sunshine, But I know - I know #life doesn't work like that, So for now I'll see you tap tap tapping, Dancing away when I'm asleep, Although for now I'm not yours to keep, I hope some day you'll find your way, Tear through sleeps seams And become one with me No longer skeletons, No longer dreams.

The Genius In the corner there’s a man With a notebook and pen He seems all thoughtful, Coffee in hand, He sips his artists drink, Strong black, no milk, Two sugars to help him think, If only he could smoke, He wishes as he works, Thumbing the tin of loose leaf, Tapping the skins against the wood, He really should, Then he’d be really productive, Banning smoking in cafes was so… Counterproductive It was the government, He mused, eyeing the alternative waitress, This place should be entirely anti-establishment, Maybe he should work here, Pack in the corporate bullshit, Turn it around, bet it’s easy to do, Run this place, and others too, And work here in his breaks, Bet he’d get loads done, And he could smoke, Maybe pot too, screw the anti-drug folk, He smiles and sips his Americano, Congratulating himself on a plan well – oh, It’s cold, nevermind, antoher will do He signals the waitress, ‘How many sugars?’ – two. He turns and frowns at the blank page, Hmm, words weren’t coming at all today, He felt so restless, so trapped, In this whole country, his cage, Uncreative, keeping him in servitude, It was so unfair, and just plain rude, No-one even cared, About him and his genius, How he could change the world, With one idea…God it was so tedious! His thoughts were rudely interrupted By a group of teens sitting next to him, He glared as they clattered and created a din, Couldn’t they tell by his notebook and pen? Didn’t their tiny brains know He was a genius at work? His general appearance should tell them so, I mean, he looked the part, With his long hair smart, But carefully swept back, devil may care, He’d specifically made it look that way, So people would know, He was one of the carefree clever folk, Coupled with the white shirt, (top 3 buttons open, casually) And green jumper (it matched the artistic tragedy in his eyes) Over faded old jean, dress shoes, Bright socks, arranged like he’d forgotten People could see them, Oh – and the tattoo’s, Sleeves rolled at half-mast, So people could see the frightfully clever Designs and drawings past his elbows, Hemingway, Blake and some equations, And some sort of reference to – Well he couldn’t quite remember, But that didn’t matter did it? His arms were an external representation, An outward expression, Of his internal self, Obviously. His favourites were on each wrist, The jigsaw pieces that didn’t quite fit, It reminded him never to conform, He knew he’d never belong with the masses, He angled his arms towards the waitress, As she bustled past, all pink hair and piercings, She ignored him, useless bitch, Probably stupid anyway – it’s why she – ‘Oi, you know, your jigsaws don’t fit’ Giggled the schoolyard scum at the next table, He fixed the little twerp with the coldest stare he was able, He dare he interrupt his genius, ‘That’s the point’ – with little effort he snorted, No-one understood him. Why did no-one know He was a genius, He slurped his cold coffee, The blank page taunting him, For the first time doubt crept in, Maybe this atmosphere wasn’t the best for him, Yes that must be it, How could he work in such a din? He packs up his things, Maybe a library, surrounded by his kin, He belonged there, it was his calling, This place was SO mundane and boring, Too few windows, care walls, No, this would not do at all, The library would be better, With its quiet and peaceful halls, Thousands of books, with people like him in them, He smiles as he stands and drains his new cup Yes, he should have known before He was a genius after all.

The Death Of Disney When I was a lot younger An innocent child of three I used to watch my fairy tales With Mother on the TV And when I grew a bit older A curious child of eight I wondered if #life was as simple As the tales that Disney creates So I gathered all of my courage And I sat on Mother's knee Asked her 'What's #life really like?' And here's what she said to me 'My love I wish I could tell you That #life was always this fine And that you will never suffer And your days will be filled with sunshine But you are my only daughter, To lie to you would be a crime, I want you to know what's out there To know what you'll deal with with time The good and bad aren't black and white And you won't always know, Who to love and who to hate The difference from friend and foe The men that seem like princes Could be the ones you shouldn't befriend And the wickedest of witches Could be your greatest friend Your #life lies in your hands And not the power of others There is no spell to make things well Forget about fairy Godmothers! The brave die and wars aren't won They just go on and on and on They arent't for country Or King or Valour They're for greed and dollar Or to settle a score, Or the want of a product From a foreign shore And you'll never transform From rags to riches overnight It takes years of hard work Of stress and fights And whilst we're on it, Wishing on a star Won't get you very far It's a ball of gas in space A million miles away... ...Don't cry my love I'm sorry to be frank But if it's money you want Don't ask a star ask a bank!' At this point I ran to my room and cried Aghast at the things that #life would provide Clutching my bears I lay on my bed Feeling my stomach become heavy with dread But now I am a lot older A wiser child of twenty three I've seen the ups and downs of #life And I understand why she prepared me Phew - that's it now! That's all my old stuff (apart from some archives that aren't rely relevant to who I am now so, whilst they're not bad, I don't really want to post them!)

Jeeeeeeezz I really hate when people ask people to like or repost their stuff. That's annoying, and if your stuff was worth it, people would be doing that without you asking! I dunno about you guys but if I see someone saying to people in general on here and noone in particular like 'like my stuff read this read that!!' I automatically just think 'no'....is that mean?

Tonight It's rainy as fuck in Leeds. I like listening to it drip and patter out a lullaby in the gutter outside