I walk in the shadow of Vader's might,
A towering force, a fearsome sight.
Between him and Palpatine, supreme and cold,
I cheer for their reign, ruthless and bold.
The Empire stands, iron and grand,
The finest of them, a fist in hand.
Sid James—he needs no words,
A glance, a grin, and laughter’s stirred.
That cackle—wild, untamed, and bright,
It gets me every time, feels just right.
A firm favourite, tried and true,
Comedy lived where Sid once stood.
Video games call, their stories grand,
But pain and focus shift like sand.
I struggle at times, the battles wane,
Yet still they pull me back again.
A tale well told, a world so wide,
I lose myself where legends bide.
And through the years, still shining bright,
Mario jumps and Zelda fights.
Yet above all, music reigns,
My heartbeat, my soul, my world unchained.
Vinyl calls me louder still,
A hunger deep, a yearning thrill.
Michael Jackson, a force, a friend,
Through grief and sorrow, he would mend.
His music carried, pulled me through,
The day he left, the sky fell too.
Fleetwood Mac—resentment, love,
A life unravelled in songs above.
Pain and passion, tangled tight,
Each note revealing wrong and right.
Nina Simone, a decade deep,
Her voice, her pain, emotions deep.
She sings of life, of struggle raw,
Each word commanding, without flaw.
Chris Rea, the blues, the grit,
His tones, his tales, a perfect fit.
That raspy warmth, that knowing ease,
A melody that sets me free.
My home—my fortress, dreams fulfilled,
A Pool slate-bed table, a heart rebuilt.
No more dark flats, no neighbour’s rage,
Just quiet peace, a turned new page.
And Joanne—my rock, my ground,
A love so strong, so safe, so sound.
Lily and Molly, paws that run,
A bond unbroken, Leuk not gone.
Reuben stands, stats in tow,
WWE’s legends he’ll always know.
Pokémon too—his mind’s a map,
Every battle, every stat.
Lady Dianne, so full of beans,
A whirlwind bright, yet calm between.
She helps her granda, kind and true,
With smiles that heal, with love that grew.
Katherine—creative, sharp, mysterious too,
She takes after me, that much is true.
Her temper sparks, her presence stays,
And lucky for her—her looks amaze.
And now my art returns once more,
With strokes unchained, mistakes ignored.
A tablet frees me, lets me roam,
I play my music, let colours flow,
No longer lost in dark shadow.
My home has healed, the light pours in,
I draw what makes me smile within.
2087
titsay
yousharknotpass
dailybridgerton
kianamaiart