Something uneasy for you about him
Sully face, optimistic smile
Darkness she lightens
If it wasn't for her
Not enough of life would be left
You think he's fine, and why not
The public persona is stage managed
Given what we have, what we want to hear
Takes odious steps, ingratiates with practice
Only simple and ordinary men go lightly
White washing blows outside on their lines
More goodness even than to understand
A fragile walk over the derelict rail crossing
On and on and on, deep into the tunnel
Colours drain; your edgy cheeks chill
Is this still pretence, or is it for real
Taken from the collection Words in Aspect South Facing - Available from Amazon for Kindle
