Left out on the porch.
I stare at the sky with its twinkling.
Sight to behold that I can’t forget.
Dreams of joining are frequent.
Fragile are hopes and days to come.
Don’t sell me out to the sun.
Financed hate in a soul.
Forgive separation without the know.
All to balance betrayal with joy.
For these words are just a ploy.
Fragile are hopes and days to come.
Don’t sell me out to the sun.
Re-establish them emphasise.
Or should that be, continue to criticise?
I cannot say unless you speak.
Sow these wounds that prove I’m a freak.
Powered by empty will.
Shut off these pipes before they spill.
Vitriol enough to drown us all.
You are no victim, is written on your wall!
Fragile are hopes and days to come.
Don’t sell me out to the sun.
Simon A Jackson - Writer 