Dandy

Who's the Dandy in the hat,

Baggy trouser suit,

And dandy spats?

Wheres the Dandy gone right now?

Is he at home,

Or on the prowl?

Come on all Dandies in funny hats!

Come out into the broad daylight

And show us your fancy spats...

Cut Away

A small knife.
A lancet.
A tiny blade to prick a finger;
To rip skin;
To let crimson blood flow.

A primal urge.
More pain to cover pain.
Rivulets of dark red.
The colour of life;
The transporter of oxygen.

Why cut?
Why not?
An uncontrollable force,
Within me.
Driving the lancet home.
Tearing, splitting...
Why can't I stop?


• Dedicated to Anyone.

• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated.

Location:Green Trees Ave,,United Kingdom