Dignity.

Here’s a poem I wrote a few weeks ago. No, it isn’t comedy. I quite like writing poetry.

There’s no diginity in a dying flower,

you say to me as we approach this final hour,

I can’t stand the thought that I,

may stand still to see you go,

may close your eyes and watch the wave grow,

it’s such an insipid thing to say, but,

I can’t let you penetrate the clouds,

I will not wait and I will not want,

to lose my dignity in a dying flower.

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About neilstilwell

Abseiling into trouble, a sewer rat staring at the stars. Disgusting. You can assist my search for the one ring by buying a Kindle version of this diary from here. http://www.amazon.co.uk/frozen-fridge-Zoomeister-Diaries-ebook/dp/B00C426DD0/ref=sr_1_sc_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1366481719&sr=8-1-spell&keywords=a+frozen+turd+in+a+hot+frudge It has some other stuff in it, and a dreadful cover.
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