Poetry By Jambo Stewart


Scrapping the bottom barrel of melancholy

There are times when I feel not so jolly
My thoughts go round, or they sit and fester
When I take the back-alley off memory lane
That leads to Winchester

I wonder if it at all, made sense?
Now that I see it in the past-tense
Or were we merely victims of society
An elaborate con, that breeds nothing
But notoriety

Originally posted in Writer’s Fight Club