The guilty quilt

They were looking for something to do,
But opted for something to say,
Gossip was a communal patchwork quilt,
Handed round with glee and added to.
Temporary designers embellished.
They had no art direction.
it mattered not how it looked,
But whether you’d heard of it.
The stitches of separation
Weaved exaggeration with nonchalance
In-spite, in-spite, in spite.

Oh, You’re Why I Came

Less is more, more or less,
Private thoughts in the officers mess.
Crossed lines but where’s the mesh?
Egos bump in this ageing cresh,
Too old for a prince to feel fresh.
Until something stirs in this pointless sesh.
That particular soul wrapped in that, that particular flesh,
I then just want to break the thresh-
Hold me, in this cold sea,
When you wave, I see,
That you’re ebb flows and your tidy.
And you’ll stand close even when you can’t,

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