I wrote this poem about spending time with my good friend Mitch at his place in Newcastle. There's actually a lot more that I want to add to this poem, but I've just got too much other stuff on my mind at the moment. I'm in one of those points in an arc where you swing to the other arc. It's pretty shitty, but hopefully the next arc will be worth it. :)
Walls End
For Mitch
When I pulled into your
driveway (having driven past
already, much to your amusement)
You jumped down from
the hood of your car and
showed me your new tattoo.
It was tribal, just like school was. It
swirled and curled just as your
kind spirit loves to do, even though
neither were yet complete.
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