On The Day

Love came to my town,

The buglers were on strike,

The angels just weren't around,

And Cupid was on his bike.



The moon and the stars,

Of celestial delight,

Were behind iron bars,

On a midsummer's night.



The clowns were out in force,

As poets worked to rule,

The town criers shouted hoarse,

About their newly crowned fool.



St. Valentine having turned cynic,

Did renounce violets and roses,

Now booked into a clinic,

( It's like a hospital innit),

That treats lost causes, one supposes.



Hearts and flowers, the lost happy hours,

The dreams and aspirations,

Locked in high lonely towers,

With no super powers,

Shattered nascent great expectations.



Lover's Walk was a no-go zone,

A million sweet nothings that came to nought,

A collection of squiggles on a mobile phone,

Delivered a cliche in the place of thought.



On The Day



Love came to my town,

Church bells rang loud and proud,

A single note did resound,

Whispers ran about the crowd,

The sky dark with black crows,

The emperor's new clothes ?

No love it is a shroud.