Pound shop super glue

Clouds on the horizon sunshine and squinting gaze, the heavy leaves of potted plants and empty dog bowl days. The broken ornament, repaired with pound shop super glue. And all the hours reminiscing of the day I spent with you.

Tea stained coasters forgotten on dusty nested tables, the greying rug once deep with pile hides miles of TV cables. A box of keys no-one remembers what they're for, and the hundredth time this week the delivery man leaves things we don't need by our front door.

Ample time for contemplation, growing frustration with mobile ads, and abandoned songs half written, on Christmas gift note pads.

Cupboards next to cupboards all piled high with needless stuff, and the greedy life of hoarders who'll never have enough.

Long shadows mark the drifting time and lateness of the hour, slouching bodies and hunched shoulders tell of a man relieved of power. Cracked sorry and stubbled face for the stolen years thate work did take, and days ahead for more mistakes I'll make before the end.

Clouds on the horizon sunshine and squinting gaze, the heavy leaves of potted plants and empty dog bowl days. The broken ornament, hastily repaired with pound shop super glue. And all the hours reminiscing of the last day hand-in-hand with you.