The Day I died By Benjamin Bourne

I rolled my eyes Said my goodbyes Left her standing on the corner She shouted, wait I never turned I wish I had. Now I just think Whilst drunk on drink About the reason why I left her But they don't come I was so dumb The day I died.

In every place I see her face Remember how it used to be The memory burns I never learn I wish I could. It doesn't pass No joint of hash Can ever bring her back to me We where so young I was so dumb The day I died.

I saw her once With someone else Walking hand in hand together The penny dropped My heartbeat stopped I'm glad it did. She looked across I waved a hand And then she disappeared forever My sweet one I was so dumb The day I died.

I love her still I always will But I can't stand the pain no longer Days are bad Nights so hard I pray for sleep. So goodbye girl And goodbye world I only wish that I was stronger Hello gun I was so dumb The day I died.

Copyright ©2004  Benjamin Bourne

Poetry - A Message For .. and The Break Up By Nigel Holmes
	Like a magnet, I was, when I first saw you. Like a cactus in the desert, you stood out. I did not know you, but, I was intrigued. Would I get to know you? Would you want to know me? Your fantastic hair, your pretty face, Read more...

Poetry - Men weep more as they grow old, and women less - newspaper headline. By Maurice Fairfield
	Skimming through the daily press Tales of spite and greed oppress Evils great and evils small, A headline caught my idle eye A statement by some talking head Researched and tested, and he said Read more...

Poetry - Balm Aid, Discarded Clothes and The Deepest Scars By MD Tasker

	The deepest scars see no light They live, born from gashes Coalescing to closed eyes Stitch marks like lashes Curving to small smiles Or gnarled and wailing Read more...

Poetry - Lovedrug and Inter-Planetary Cosmic Rider and The Black Hole By Daphne Liver Age 16
	When love dies the feeling is comparable to the suffering of the bitter sour comedown from the most euphoric of highs: With love's crushing demise Read more...

Poetry - Ode to the Mole By Terry Bugbearer
	I have a love I dare not tell For a small burrowing animal It's not a weasel, stoat or vole but the small, industrious mole. He makes hills out of my lawn to his earthy mounds I am always drawn. Read more...

Poetry - Wanted You To Know By Rhonnie Besonday

	Mommy, I had to talk to you, And tell you some things. I wanted to say I love you, And I have always understood. I know why you did what you did, And how much it has hurt you since. Read more...

Poetry - I'm Sorry Once Again. By Amy, 16
	I'm sorry if I ever made you unhappy I'm sorry that I ever made you cry. I did it all unintentionally. I didn't mean to lie. I'm sorry if you ever thought I wasn't there for you I'm sorry that it took me this long to see Read more...

Poetry - The Reading Will Start Shortly By Patrick Henry
	Catching planes briskly as a smart executive Crossing the globe to arms talks or trade tariffs, I land at many ports to collect ripe pub stories, Or to read poems in suspicious small back rooms. Who are these figures in the gloom who cough or clap? Read more...

Reviews, Books - "The Lost Boy" by Dave Pelzer
	By Darren Sant The memoirs of Dave Pelzer, see my review of the first book on this website. here The first book leaves you with a naïve feeling of satisfaction as Dave finally escapes his cruel mother. However, things are not as cut and dried, as we would like them to be. This second book deals with Dave's life from ages 12 to 18. Read more...

Reviews, Books - "A Child Called 'It'" by Dave Pelzer By Darren Sant
	By Darren Sant What can I say about this book? Anyone that knows me well would perhaps describe me as a "sentimental bugger". I am therefore surprised that I did not cry buckets of tears after every page of this book. A Child Called 'It' is the first in a trilogy of books. The books are the memoirs of Dave Pelzer. This first book covers Dave's life from ages 4 to 12. Read more...