This is the Wall. The wall is for you to write on. Post your thoughts, your poems, your words, yourselves - onto The Wall.
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An Epic Poem (continued)
The water of Cambridge was effortless still,
As the titanic marching drifted down from the hill...
The ug-boot stomp, the skirts rara,
and the harridan squawk under glistering stars...
blistering scars that no one minds
keep the lights low and hot so no one has to know
Then pout your fescennine fleshy lips
and kiss the lager off your burberry check
sweep the dusty undercover from the top of the stairs
tea should be ready by now
i'll have a chicken pot noodle, yes, that's all,
and laugh at you in your formal hall
and kindly remove your suitcase from the corridor
it's blocking the passage to darker places
where the light bulb burned itself out
but guess what's in my pocket?
this lighter is life fuck the dark

Cambridge Writers' Guild - The Wall