If you only care what I look like, then I’m not going to say. If you don’t care what I look like, it doesn’t matter any way. You don’t have to have vision, to see what’s contained herein, just show trust and love, and I will let you in.
None of my friends are my friends because of the way I look, all my friends are my friends because they can read me like a book.
I have no tattoos, face jewellery, or fancy hair, tribalism, sectarialism I have not a single care.
If you see me on the street, you would not even know, because what I am on the inside does not even show.

There’s deep for you!

Now for a bit of fun, I’m sure you’ve met him, and no it’s not me.

From my archive.

The Moany Man.

You have a little time out from your busy daily life, just a little down time, just you and lovely wife.

In the cafe you’re sitting, drinking coffee quietly as you can, then at the back you hear him, it is the Moany man.

It could be any subject, but today it’s just the weather, He’s getting into the swing of it now going Hell for leather.

People are all staring, there’s muttering of a ban, he is a public menace, that dreaded Moany man.

On the bus you’re travelling, to a quite secluded beach, you can excuse the little child, with his ear piercing screech, bit today the subject football, bellowing his lungs out to a man called named Stan, how he should be managing England, that awful moany man.

In the public library where quietness is a must, with a voice like as loud as thunder, disturbing the lying dust.

“They come over in little boats, then transported in a van” then taken to a luxury hotel, so shouts that moany man.

All world leaders be aware, for there is another player who can do better than any of you lot can, Im sure you’ve guessed by now, it is the Moany man.