So, why are you here?
I ‘m asking pointing at you,
trying to cause fear.
Ten broken crayons,
seem so many and varied,
though each one smaller.
The night cloaks the land,
and the east wind stirs the trees,
that sounds like the sea.
Never apologise,
if you think you’re in the right,
and when you are not.
He rattled the cage,
waiting for the beast to rage,
attacking the bars.
The spell check is on,
and so I have to check it,
and make sure it’s right.
