2002
You might have known hunger
You might have known pain
But is that your own father
Standing out there in the rain?
You remember the darkness
You remember the fears.
You remember that knock at the door.
You remember the tears.
Standing in an empty hall
Staring up the stairs.
There is no more sobbing
Just the echo of his prayers.
So you draw the curtains
Get locked up for the night.
Button your coat, breathe in the dark
Wait for tomorrow's light
A lot of things happen
None of them your fault.
But the aim's the same, whatever you use
Methadone or malt.
Picture: MK1_Fiesta
may isle
CONTENTS
- Columns (60)
- Prose poems (24)
- Songs (14)
Welcome
Welcome to 'A Frample', a confused tangle of columns, prose poems and lyrics. It's not so much a blog as an online folder, lying somewhere between a drawer and the bin.
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Yesterday brought a hat-trick of happy happenings that made quite an impression on me, motivating me to share these in writing with my virtu...
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International Holocaust Day (January 27) has an even deeper and personal meaning for me this year. Of course, it is a date that should make ...
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Sunday, October 14, 2018 Most Fifers will have known someone with a Polish name. After 1945, with the Iron Curtain drawing across ...
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Now when I talked to God I knew he’d understand He said, "Sit by me and I'll be your guiding hand But don't ask me what I thi...
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The man in the next bed Is as frightened as I am. Both of us scarred by time But our minds clinging to our Perfect spring. No-one ever ca...
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