They said that “children had written it all”.
I walked on it when no one was there
the paints were written colourless
On my wall
I had scratched it with my nails
Times had passed...
And memories from no where came back to haunt me...
I am waiting, missing and desperately
want you...
On Sunday, at dawn my arms were ready to embrace
I stood in front of my wall
that child again
he was long gone... my hope
Why am I thinking?
No one is expecting me...
my road is empty...



April 2009 – Bromley Road