Pop Culture

You are ok. I know after Big Brother you were convinced Mickey Mouse was going to propose and you'd have a Chantelle and Preston style wedding and live happily ever after like Jordan and Peter Andre after I'm a Celebrity Get Me out of Here. And no one, least of all you expected to catch him eating a Burger King after signing the big MacDonald's promotion with Justin Timberlake. But after a few Starbucks and a pint of Haagen-Dazs, you will get over it. You have that walk on part in Eastenders coming up. Just listen to a few itunes, check your facebook on your new apple and you'll feel better. So Mickey's been sent back to Hollywood. You don't need him. Go on a date with a footballer, sell your kiss and tell story to the Sun and you'll have Mickey begging you to take him back. And if all else fails, fight Gary Lineka for some Walkers salt and vinegar, they always do the trick.

Goodbye

Tears fall
from thick lined eyes,
down soft cheeks

dropping softly
soaking into the collar. More
tears fall

in streams
flowing salt trails
down soft cheeks.

Eyes redden as tissues
wipe, attempting to stop
tears fall,

unstoppable tears.
Sadness weaving its own pattern
Down soft cheeks.

Deep, choking breaths
shaking from pale lips, as
tears fall
down soft cheeks.

And all for what?

Bombs fell from the sky,
Small children start to cry,
Down every London city street,
Good and evil here do meet,
No-one knows which side is right,
But none will lose without a fight,
Battle after battle will be won,
But of the winner we’ll see none,
For he stays hidden away,
In some place all night and day,
Out of the way of the bombs that fall,
Crashing down on wall after wall.

Constraint

Looking into the skyline,
seeing the darkness through
the light.
The colours dance around me.
It is a magical night.
Warm arms around my waist,
their strength keeps me from flying free
but in those gaps of darkness
my mind soars.
He'll never have the whole of me.

Potential

I am a bank account with high interest
but I only contain a few pounds.
I do not achieve my full potential,
but I could,
if you would let me.

I burn

I am a chilli.
Bright,
Hot,
Spicy.
I burn
and make your tongue tingle.
I can easily make you cry.

I am the theatre

I am a play
constantly rehearsing.
I am the understudy whose leading lady always goes on.
I am left in the wings when standing centre stage
because my leading man won't give his best performance.
I'm not ready for the curtain,
but I can see it start to fall.
I am the encore that's never called for.

Real

If the dragon is not so much slain as silenced,
If the knight doesn't sweep you off your feet,
If you've won the battle but not the war,
If your life is not a fantasy,
It really could be real.