It couldn't get any worse

So yesterday's prompt didn't exactly work out for me. Alright, it was a complete literary car crash. I very nearly took it down but I'm going to leave it there as a reminder to myself never to attempt to re-write anything written by a proper poet. Ever. Also, every day I write something better is a win.

Today's prompt is a bit more up my street. Stick your music collection on shuffle and incorporate the first five song titles into a poem. Well, I went with nine; see if you can spot them all.

9 Songs

Let it be your name
and not the bank terms and conditions
or the Sunderland Empire intruding.
But for what it's worth
I feel I'm walking on a thin line
with this forlorn exchange. 
You are always one step ahead
and I am feeling thin trying
to keep up, like some sort of paper man.
That is, not whole. Not complete.
Like a series of dreams
that I might wake up from.
I try not to fall at your feet
and so check the news, a distraction.
There is a headline concerning
the UFO sighting near Highland, Illinois
but there is nothing about what to do
when the one who makes you feel wonderful
only appears to you briefly
in a shell through the windowpane.


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