Quietly we work, obscured from the world
Carving tales out of shapeless forms
Seeds of imagination, trapped
Under fine shaped smears of ink.
Priceless hand written art
Carefully folded
Down the middle
Then read on
Bus rides
Home
No rose tinted glasses can ever hide
Humanity's shameful ecocide
Hidden badly behind black lies
Like prayers - recited at night
No god can put this right
Somewhere deep inside
Where our fears hide
The truth is
Buried
Live