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Badger Poetry

Alan Zimbabwe
John Dillinger
Others
Clarence Peabody
Summer Fauve
Nick Green

I don't mean to talk you into
Anything
You don't want to do.
I just think there's talking still to do,
And I don't hope to steal your heart
They'd chop off my hands.
I just don't think your really sure,
I just believe your insecure,
And I've got nothing planned for September,
Nothing,
No plans.

I don't want to be the victim,
Because the scales still weigh
In your favour.
We don't have to live in pockets
We don't have to pretend,
Anymore.
But the value of all this grief
Deserves some relief,
And I've got nothing planned for September,
Nothing,
At a loose end.

I can't go on bending without snapping,
Yet I'm stuck in the storm,
I can't stop loving on schedule,
Proud and forlorn.
But I'm bigger than you realise,
And I'm painter and portrait too...
And I've got nothing planned for September,
Nothing,
But you.