All posts tagged: Design

Incomplete

“Tomorrow morning, that footstool goes!” And I’m left to listen to my own voice’s echo, As it bounced back off half-painted walls And round corners without the skirting- Next weekend’s promise still etched in pencil. But faded past the point of a stranger’s notice, And even your mother has stopped commenting, On the second landing’s crooked light fixing. I must have asked you a hundred times before, To throw out that footstool in the hallway. Bought at some junk shop, three streets away, And just awkward enough, so that I stub my toe, Every single time I walk through the dam door! The same door you painted pink to annoy John, Next door’s tenant with a grey tweed suit, And a hate for anything even mildly creative! God he hated you! With a passion unmatched. At least he did- Last week he said how he’d admired you. He said that you artwork was unparalleled! You would have snorted in his face, And asked him “what else you would expect? You were a genius with a …