It's raining outside 
and everywhere else. 
Bits of broken me lie about the loungeroom, 
trying not to stain the carpet, 
kinda hoping I'll get stepped on. 
no-one even asks about the sugar in my coffee, 
one lump or two, I wish they'd say. 
It's just a short cab ride to down, 
thought I might stay the night 
or maybe go insane for the weekend. 

- Smithy

to Smithy
to Poets
to Moongate