Empty Nest..

He’d coat his tongue with sour lies,

Hold a gaze she learnt to despise.

Revelled when he made her twitch,

swiped her away as if an itch.

Punch a fist beside her head,

Force himself upon the marital bed.

She would blink, flinch, jump and twitch,

He’d call her his whore his stinking bitch.

She fought and pushed through the night,

with every breath and all her might

She bore a child that she would love

They held fast hand to glove.

Softly suckled him to her breast

concentrated on how to be the best.
Children came they grew strong,

Proud and good, knew right from wrong.

The day came when they left the nest

put their lives to the test.

On that morn as the sun lit up the sky

She believed in herself and with head held high…

Pulled on her coat without a goodbye

And left the bastard high and dry.

I lift my pen & then…

I tried, on this day I cried…  and then,
Words I needed to write were stuck in my pen.
Tears streaked my cheeks I felt my  stomach flip,
Dry heaved I retched sweat gathered on my lip.

The ink thickened my stomach burned,
Try as I might my words had not learned.
Mine were too sad to leave my pen,
To speak of the death caused by men.

Who they had never met or even seen,
those who made their lasts a scream.
who stole mankind’s dreams
and left only deafening screams.

Trying again I lift my pen… and then


I don’t think I will ever find the right words but  I wrote these on the night of the terrible atrocities in Paris.