What I wanted was a box of silver stars
that could be hauled up and down according to my mood.
What I got was a headful of lame excuses
from the moonlighting electrician
What I wanted was a forest
where you could hear the trees shuffling their silences.
What I got was a postcard from the Brecons
telling me that they hadn’t seen cloud all week.
What I wanted was a door you could open
and each time it led somewhere different.
What I got was an outside loo where I endured
the December wind axing through the boards.
What I wanted was a world that always told the truth.
What I got was a box full of riddles
That exploded if you uttered the wrong password.
What I wanted was you, forever.
What I got was me, over and over,
and the deaf clocks calling time without end.
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