Icehouse Angel Street

It's a song, but I think it's poetic too.

Icehouse - Angel Street Lyrics

she draws the curtain wide
and brushes back her hair
she stands before the mirror
wondering what to wear
but she knows no one will care
so easy to forget
just another sad affair
the girl on angel street
so she waits for the call
knowing only too well
a photograph a dusty window
where the sun strays in
everywhere the sounds of morning
as the day begins
people waiting at the station
do they go nowhere
two lines that stretch out in the distance
turn and disappear
but she knows no one will care
so easy to forget
just another sad affair
with the girl on angel street
so she waits for the call
and she waits for so long
knowing only too well
she tells herself there must be more
toujour l'amour l'amour
but she knows no one will care
so easy to forget
just another sad affair
with the girl on angel street
so easy to forget
the girl on angel street
she knows no one will care
so easy to forget
just another sad affair
the girl on angel street
she knows no one will care
so easy to forget
just another sad affair
with the girl on angel street
so easy to forget
with the girl on angel street
so easy to forget
just another sad affair
with the girl on angel street
so easy to forget
just another sad affair
the girl on angel street

Lonely world

Misunderstood with words unspoken
Misunderstood when I speak
Lonely death with heart that's broken
Misery is all I find
Understanding is all I seek.

Blessed sleep and cursed sorrow
The sleep I would most bless
Is death.

Wait

I wait for the hate
When someone again tells me
I'm too much of a freak to be bothered with
Defective
I know
And you wonder why
I am unable to trust.

Sharing Shakespeare

Sonnet #51

Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
Of my dull bearer when from thee I speed:
From where thou art why should I haste me thence?
Till I return, of posting is no need.
O, what excuse will my poor beast then find,
When swift extremity can seem but slow?
Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind;
In winged speed no motion shall I know:
Then can no horse with my desire keep pace;
Therefore desire of perfect'st love being made,
Shall neigh--no dull flesh--in his fiery race;
But love, for love, thus shall excuse my jade;
Since from thee going he went wilful-slow,
Towards thee I'll run, and give him leave to go.