DEAR CHRISTINE

 

 

 

 

Dear Christine

I've booked a flight

For nine fifteen

I leave tonight

I've left my keys

I'm on my knees

I’m flying home

 

Dear Christine

Suppose you're ill

And can't be forced

Against your will

Into a home

Then would you roam

Like Jack and Jill

 

Well you never refer to that patch of ice

You were on your bike and it wasn't so nice

Yet nobody knew

Well you stand by yourself all by the hour

And you rage by yourself with yourself in the shower 

That’s what you do

 

Dear Christine

I tried to phone

I knew that you

Would be alone

My darling pup

You don’t pick up

I’m flying home

 

Well it wasn’t until I'd accepted the fact

That I emailed around and was driven to act

To trace your kin

Well no one had heard from you in years

Some thought you dead there were many many tears

To uncover where you’d been

 

You’re ill Christine

And blank your face

To all your gifts

All gone to waste

My darling dear

It's you you fear

I'm flying home

 

You were showing all the symptoms of OCD

So I emailed the Beeb who wouldn't listen to me

I heard not a word

So I wrote to the prime minister with pen and ink

And all the papers of course but what the hell do you think

Again not a word

 

Dear Christine

I love you well

But life with you

Has sure been hell

I leave today

What's more to say

I'm flying home

 

Dear Christine

Don’t take it bad

We know that times

Can be so sad

I’m ill myself

To help myself

I’m flying home

 

© 2015 by Tim Higgs

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