I may be a weed

Think of this, a weed still has its flowers
They may be small, like ivy  they may spread 
We must  display ourselves, not cower
Until  the   moment comes when we are dead

Does it matter that you hate my guts?
That you dislike my face so pink and white?
I am happy to deflect your bombs so hot
The nuclear  option seems so very trite

I am me and I may be a weed
The definition falters as we talk
Let us be judged by all our deeds
The sparrow  must be careless of the hawk

I no longer want your letters vile
Be gone from me and you will make me smile

Odd memories

Trolleybuses in Manchester - Wikipedia

From Wikipedia 

When I was about 3 years old,my parents took us to a park in another town
It was very pretty.Then we went to the bus stop to go home.
.I sat in the front seat and I think my brothers were further back along with my  parents
The bus drew up at the bottom of our street, and my dad was busy helping Mum
with  the push chair and my sister
.I just sat where I was.I saw them all  sstanding on the pavement
Suddenly just as the bus set off, they realised I was missing.I can remember seeing
Dad running after  the bus .I felt no emotion.
At the next bus stop,Dad got on and took me back to  the  family
I can’t   understand.Why did I not feel anxious? Did I want to get away
from them? Did they slap me in the park? It was very  common then to beat little
children but I didn’t feel distressed
I will never know why I did this.And Mum and Dad have died.
I can’t remember much from that time.We had no car so we often went to Parks on Sundays

Embrace the silent peace

Underneath the silence there is peace
A stratum clear ;a different way of life
With music ‘s just discernible relief

In the calm we find a pure release
Love can heal the wounds of a sharp knife
We embrace the silence ,welcome peace

The self may break ,may shake in disbelief
Render us to fragments,soul denied
Does music make  the painful thoughts decrease?

Do not bury loss and hide your grief
We mourn what’s gone and those who have late died
Company in silence brings us peace

Did you see your body lying creased
On the bed below your hiding place?
Play with music, pray for some  release

I find myself lie broken in a box
 A jigsaw needing time beyond the clocks
Underneath the silence there is peace
I pray the silent music brings relief