Weeds Or Wishes


As a child I used to sit

Under the pine-tree

In front of Grandma’s house

Imagining little green weeds

Into fairytale forests

Where I could play

And make a wish

For the Sirens of death

To stay away another day

While Elvis Presley

In a dark voice sang

‘Love me tender, love me sweet

Darling please, will you love me tonight’


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