The Phone Call.

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I wrote this one on seeing a lady in tears whilst speaking on her mobile phone and gesticulating, wildly, with her free hand.

The Phone Call.

Why must I listen to your news standing here,

With my mobile phone pressed against my ear?


I feel naked and exposed to the sadness you express,

Without a hope of any happiness.


The street is cold, so is your heart.

Why tell me now that we are to part?


You could have waited until I was home,

Instead of telling me when I’m all alone.


Why does my hand keep moving in tune,

To the words, I say to repel the gloom?


Darkness pervades my every thought.

Now there’s someone else that your money has bought?


I helped you make it, don’t you recall?

When we had nothing, nothing at all.


Except the love that you said we shared,

Whilst I took the knocks and you risked and dared.


Now it seems you have what you need,

A new girl on your arm, one eager to please.


Why must I listen to your news standing here,

With my mobile phone pressed against my ear?


Taken From:

Anything But Hackneyed Amazon.com

Anything But Hackneyed Amazon.co.uk

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About Danny Kemp

I was at work one sunny November day in 2006, stopped at a red traffic light when a van, driven incompetently, smashed into me. I was taken to St Thomas' Hospital and kept in for a while, but it was not only the physical injuries that I suffered from; it was also mental ones. I had lost confidence in myself let alone those around me. The experts said that I had post-traumatic stress disorder, which I thought only the military or emergency personnel suffered from. On good days, I attempted to go to work, sometimes I even made it through Blackwell Tunnel only to hear, or see, something that made me jump out of my skin and that's when the anxiety attacks would start. I told my wife that I was okay and going regularly, but I wasn't. I could not cope with life and thought about ending it. Somehow or other with the help of my wife and medical professionals, I managed to survive and ever so slowly rebuild my self-esteem. It took almost four years to fully recover, but it was during those dark depressive days that I began to write. My very first story, Look Both Ways, Then Look Behind, found a literary agent but not a publisher. He told me that I had a talent, raw, but nevertheless, it was there. His advice was to write another story and that I'm delighted to say, I did. The success of that debut novel, The Desolate Garden, was down to sheer hard work, luck, and of course, meeting a film producer.
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4 Responses to The Phone Call.

  1. fantastic poem Danny…I remember reading this in your book and feeling so sad…this happens too often.

  2. Danny Kemp says:

    Thank you, Susan.

  3. Love the poem. Really tells a sad story.

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