I got plans for you, written down in my black book,
I’m savin’ them for a rainy day.
On each page a work of art, as graphical as dark,
my very own fifty shades of grey.
But I never, ever seem to get a break,
and you never, ever seem to look my way.
But I got: Plans for you.
Lights off, home alone, too scared to use the phone,
convinced myself that it’s a lost cause.
I grab my little book, sketch a plate or two,
we’ll have our work cut out that’s for sure.
There is no light – at the end, of my lonely journey.
My graphic plans – flame and smoke, a perjurous book burnin’.
©30.7.2019 Andrew Robert Chapman