Your dreams and ambitions lead me out into the blue,
I’m a child again, depending and falling into you.
Hold my hand tightly, please never let go,
teach me the secrets of your life, what nobody can know.

I call out to you and feel through the darkness in hope to catch your scent
brush my hand to your skin to tell you "sweetie I’m sorry" and kiss you until my time is spent.
Forgive my eyes for betraying, my fingertips for deceiving my love,
Though remember that I shall be the one, your angel from above.

A poem which is part of a story I’ve written. I like it so I thought I’d stick it here even though it is incredibly shorter than usual. It was meant to be brief, like the characters life.
–

A While longer:

Love a little longer,
Live the life I lead.
Give me a kiss goodbye,
Your touch is all I need.

Our tomorrows become memories,
the passion is in the past.
Toss aside the pleasentries
‘Cause our time is fading fast.

So when I leave, I beg of you;
Love a little longer
live the life I lead
Give me one last kiss goodbye
your touch is all I need.

I  am long and thin, sandwhiched beetween bread,

I’m named after an animal with a tail and a head.

Be carful because I’m hot hot hot

I’m served in a plate, pan but not a pot.

No meat is in in my content

But I’m so yummy I get loads of compliments. 

As I’ve had too many requests to sing the song I did at the end of last year, I’ve posted the lyrics here so you can sing it yourselves. It’s by an american comedian called Tom Lehrer. Enjoy!

About a maid I’ll sing a song,
Sing rickety-tickety-tin,
About a maid I’ll sing a song,
Who didn’t have her fam’ly long.
Not only did she do them wrong,
She did ev’ryone of them in, them in,
She did ev’ryone of them in.

One morning in a fit of pique,
Sing rickety-tickety-tin,
One morning in a fit of pique,
She drowned her father in the creek.
The water tasted bad for a week,
And we had to make do with gin, with gin,
We had to make do with gin.

Her mother she could never stand,
Sing rickety-tickety-tin,
Her mother she could never stand,
And so a cyanide soup she planned.
The mother died with the spoon in her hand,
And her face in a hideous grin, a grin,
Her face in a hideous grin.

She set her sister’s hair on fire,
a-Rickety-tickety-tin,
She set her sister’s hair on fire,
And as the smoke and flame rose high’r,
Danced around the funeral pyre,
Playin’ a violin, -olin,
Playin’ a violin.

She weighted her brother down with stones,
a-Rickety-tickety-tin,
She weighted her brother down with stones,
And sent him off to Davy Jones.
All they ever found were some bones,
And occasional pieces of skin, of skin,
Occasional pieces of skin.

One day when she had nothing to do,
Sing rickety-tickety-tin,
One day when she had nothing to do,
She cut her baby brother in two,
And served him up as an Irish stew,
And invited the neighbors in, -bors in,
Invited the neighbors in.

And when at last the police came by,
Sing rickety-tickety-tin,
And when at last the police came by,
Her little pranks she did not deny.
To do so she would have had to lie,
And lying, she knew, was a sin, a sin,
Lying, she knew, was a sin.

My tragic tale I won’t prolong,
Rickety-tickety-tin,
My tragic tale I won’t prolong,
And if you do not enjoy my song,
You’ve yourselves to blame if it’s too long,
You should never have let me begin, begin,
You should never have let me begin.

Don’t cha wish your girlfriend loved maths like me?
Don’t cha wish your girlfriend knew the square of 3?

Don’t cha?
Don’t cha?

Don’t cha wish your girlfriend knew cos and sin?
Don’t cha wish your girlfriend knew which numbers are prime?

Don’t cha?
Don’t cha?

Don’t cha wish your girlfriend knew fun like tests?
Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was the absolute best?

Don’t cha?
Don’t cha?

Don’t cha wish your girlfriend knew roots and surds?
Don’t cha wish your girlfriend knew .3 is a third?

Don’t cha?
Don’t cha?