by Nicky Hurle

27 and no longer

Joining the throng of those

Gone before their time.


It doesn’t hurt here

Not physically, emotionally

It’s quiet and I am finally at rest.


That voice, the hair, the eyes

The potential, the money

The drugs, the wine



Still a legacy remains

Of an awesome catalogue

You’ll hear me sing for years to come



 written in response to exercise ten