BY THIS AUTHOR
Benny
I don’t steal. Y’might think that, but I don’t. I ain’t no thief. It’s like my Mam told me, when I were little, and we was burying our cat in the back garden...

Domestic Violence: Dispelling the Myths
When most people think of domestic violence, they almost certainly won’t think of a smartly-dressed, well-educated person with a good job and plenty of friends as either a perpetrator or a potential sufferer...

Fallen Angel

She was beautiful,
My angel.
Long hair,
Blue eyes,
Sweet smiles,
Perfect.

She always had the
Same expression -
Gentle,
Forgiving,
Tender.
She never changed.

Each year I saw my angel
The same as ever.

One year the Christmas tree
Wobbled -
And my angel fell,
Where she was trodden on
By the dog.

Now we have a star, instead.

By Jenny Williamson

Copyright March 2006

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