Poem

An extract from a poem written a long time ago for that boy with the prickly beard.

"They say “the mind has no neighbours”

Then how do we find who will save us?
Without knowing their inner ponderings
How can we trust they won’t go wandering?
Until they show us something fragile, human, a weakness
It seems to smell of something fleeting, a thrill, a cheapness
I don’t trust the independent, the strong, the perfect
Until I’ve seen they have needs, a promise is almost worthless,
A raw emotion, anger, sadness, despair
And not projected in a love song, you know it doesn’t compare
To the relief, the connection, the trust you find
When you’re allowed to move in and become a neighbour of their mind.
I’m sick of giving you everything
Every broken little part
Every fragile forgotten memory
Inside my tiny little heart
its been shattered by my brothers
and fractured by another
but its manufactured for no other
than you my star crossed lover"