I am sitting here,
and love the peace and quiet,
but it’s quickly gone.
The sound of the phone,
wakes me from my day dreams,
with a wrong number.
My notebook is scrap,
the pages torn and scribbled on,
a fine piece of art.
Tensions were rising,
as they built the tower high,
but none understand.
One million pounds,
just for my latest Haiku,
but who would pay it?
Here is is at last,
the break the bank and the one,
to help change my life.
