wright from reception
dark turmoil steps from black rooms
you smile like gentle yeats
a laughter fills the murky abbey

Life’s a theatre. you say I can always take
that paper next year. (Yeah, wright!)

you are solace in dead silence
understanding and so strong at that stage

Strictly on relative choice
it’d be me. mom unwell depression tablets

not working. Familiar plot?
your wooden desk is still alive
as you walk on 13th century portraits

kate knows you are home
i know you aint alone

oh men and their hidden chambers
david you were our pride.
a goliath of a legacy.

farewell my friend