It’s too late to cross the river

The current is quick 

I am all of a shiver 

For I need to see your face 

Hold on to your hand 

Feeling  your grace…

 

I have lost both my bookends 

The great literary works 

Now lay assassinated on the shelf 

Pages of blood 

Just blowing in the breeze 

I feel so lost 

Falling to my knees…

 

Playing songs that make me cry 

My reason for living 

Now just to die!

Yet something deep

Keeps me marching on

A deep-seated hope 

The truth will be revealed…

 

Can I ever be normal?

Will I ever be healed?

The night is long 

Sleep often eludes me 

But I know it’s my demons

Playing their part

Everything exaggerated 

Alone in the dark….

 

Yet morning will return 

Along with the dew

Singing birds, seagulls too

Reminding me of holidays 

Walks by the sea

When I was young 

Loved , innocent ,free………

 

Mark Bolton, July 2026