Concealed and shrouded.
Smothered in nineties
Busy thoughts and biro scrawls
To fax machines and switchboard beeps.
Stolen from me because you feared the worst
To me the best - a child at last.
The gurgles, giggles, cries and toys,
The baby smiles and baby noise,
The sulky frown and cradle crown.
You fear the best in me, you see
And so you leave and so you leave.
Stolen from me by local friend
In PVC and camp conduct.
A kiss in moondrenched city
Turns the skyrised grey to country glade.
Strange, I know, but you're afraid
And so you steal yourself away.
Stolen from me by friends
Who need a lift to town. The lifting town.
The push and pull of hits and hits that
Scream from speakers, scream for reefers.
Screaming, leaning here on Lloyds,
I scream across a sleeping town
And cry, for I have let you down.
Chris 1995
