by Thom the World Poet

      For a year, I had wanted him
To speak the truth of his affection
And now she left him, and I believed
He was sincere, he was grieving
Until i discovered he sent the very same email
To all of his small circle of friends
      Trawling for affection
Drunk on a losling for affection
Drunk on a lost night
Asking anyone for small change
And all of us giving, and him smiling
Because in the light of love, loss and death
His was small fish
                              When all the whales where dying