Welsh vegetables

I nearly called your name, but you, who was deaf to me, still changed everything.

“At last” I thought “my time has come again”, but nothing came in the end. Except the end of Summer.

All the voices kept repeating,  all the lies,  blogged and tweeting – whatever that all means.

Some modern kid with plastic shoes can use it all but will never choose the right one. Because he’s never heard of it. And never will.  A sad fact that I must live with.  But that’s just the latest in the line, ever growing, I must be going.

Yes I nearly called your name. What would you have done?

We both know, we all know.  We both know. I was right again, it never really began.

And I nearly called your name. I nearly called your name.

Keep writing to me… I never open anything.

Platt Fields

Is it?

Post date

I have been ordered to remove all posts regarding ‘Sid’.

This I have done.

Yes, it was a work of fiction.

Will that suffice?

But what remains is the reason and the truth.

That story is still to be told, and it will be.

Here. Soon. When the handcuffs loosen.

Or perhaps when the waggon leaves town?????? The 3 wheeled waggon.

All that and a stolen guitar, perhaps some time to recover?

TBC

Legally yours

So the story ends here.

Or does it?

TBC