Youth

Words that we both know
are what keeps you.
Unstable floor
from the years I saw
nervously beneath you.
Oh now discover it shall I with every word that we both know
in between a stunted flow.
And I couldn’t care less about your mother.
Do you know that I couldn’t have one so fair
just last year?
And as a foreigner here
excuse my longing for a lime light
and not a hope in hell.
Cos it’s sad that I’m not at home.

And if I change it’s nice to know that, soon, I’ll change back in youth’s shadow.
Cos that’s the truth
soft-grown
where we all go.

And youth is a loveless, furrowed brow.

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