Empty vase at the back of the cupboard We have a lot in common You and me. Blind people feed us, but there is nothing left to feed. Just a few petals Oozing juice like a stinking peach Abandoned on the autumn carpet. A thorn or two, fallen to the floor, Biding its time, waiting patiently for the opportunity to strike. And where has the stem gone? The backbone of the whole affair? Crumpled like powdered bone and blowin' in the wind. Go down to the modest hemline of the beach, you can call for it. Your voice will scatter like a million grains of sand and you will return Laying like dead in the dark floral cave you paid £40 for All the way down at Brighton seaside. Get back on the bus You can search some more But your soul has been sold back to the soil for a fair price You will never find it.
i really liked this...i felt there were a few images/lines out of place, like "blind people feed us, but there is nothing left to feed," i didnt really know what was going on there, but for the most part i enjoyed the dark tone of this
