short poem on the way out

nerves are jangling, the time runs by,

her pretty face, no tears to cry

i hide in cars and travel fast

a moment of passion which shoots on past

a quick smile or two and hidden dreams

a clear concious, or so it seems

petrol bought and shirt and tie

worn and ironed, it’s time to fly.

i’d love to speak but princess calls,

watch me later, see me fall.

a nervous smile is all i’ve got

ridicule will be my lot,

but get it right and night will say

that Valentine will get to play.

~ stolen laughter, or maybe nerves

(c) Ed Simkins

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