A Cage To Hold My Dreams
You Are Trespassing On My Patch Of Sky
You are trespassing on my patch of sky,
spilling cigarette ash over wedding veil clouds
and snapping off fawn sunbeams
to hide away in your grubby bin-liner.
Who told you to cram your slack face
with cakes from my larder ? I warn you,
your latest assault on my consciousness
will end in the bed of a swollen river.
Give me back a remnant of my innocence,
a piece of straw from your dungeon door
to remind me that I once had dreams
The equal of any fool's.
I want to bathe my feet in hill-streams
and walk shoeless over yielding grasses
and soar beyond the clouds like an angel
freed from the tyranny of your voice.
The sun is stumbling over old beercans
searching the skyline for somewhere to sleep.
He and I are living on breadcrusts, clinging
like sandpipers to the fading warmth
I must try to regain control of my patch of sky
You won't be satisfied with anything less
than my voice shrieking from a coffin or my
head roasting on a bonfire.
