Car Park Tiara

May 11th, 2011

Winking through the Northern grit,
A beauty of some description sits,
Lost for words, the moments drip,
All because her face didn’t fit.

Dirty eyes are watching, need
To look away and just believe
That one day through a gentle deed
A home is found for broken seeds.

Tip-toe Charlies scuzzing fast,
She’s picked up, flung, a gulp, a gasp,
This treatment hopefully won’t last.
Once she was Queen in the distant past.

Entry Filed under: Bedtime stories,God damn poetry


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