ciaran

You like strong tea, tears lachrymose, fill up the breach, never one to blow cold, you won’t let it go, face crowned with thorns, jokes your repartee, might have once been so, your thoughts start to weave, littered with scorn, why beat that drum, this café’s your home, it replaces uncertainty, the moon in your dome, wants to believe, now the kids have gone, you and her alone, whisky the scouring stone, when they leave, do you try to atone, walk back to your seat, admit that you're wrong?