Down To

I don't have

Much money

Is there nothing else

We could talk about

I once loved you

My dearest honey

It’s there as a clue, to why

You went out on walkabout

I'd rather it be sunny

Than always raining down

This filthy lucre; it’s not funny

How she keeps us falling out

Still, as long as you’ve

Spit your dummy

There sure ain't nothing

Else we can talk about

Cut It - Love of Perfumed Grains of Dust

Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on Kindle by clicking the highlighted links