Never Say Die by Steven Storrie

Who do you think you are
Laying your cheap tricks on me
In the cold, hard depth of winter?
Don’t keep coming back here
Like you forgot something
Oozing around the room like you belonged

I hope you lose a toe to frostbite
When you make that long walk back home
Undone by ice as cold as you

It is Christmas, after all

I should get at least one thing
I really want.

Steven Storrie 3
Steven Storrie has worked as a cable T.V repair man, dishwasher, choreographer, ice cream vendor and junk yard attendant. Tired of this he is currently locked in his basement working on his first full collection of poetry, bickering with his neighbours over nothing and storing the baseballs he keeps when they are hit into his yard. His first collection of short stories, We Are Not The Kids We Used To Be, will be released in November by DevilHouse Press. You can find him at the website he runs, ‘Black Coffee For Breakfast’, at http://renegadepriest11.wix.com/blackcoffeebreakfast
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