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Well, the world has taken all I have
So there’s literally nothing left
She’s bleeding me dry
I’m cast aside, left bereft
But yet I keep laughing
Tell me, in earnest
What is the joke?
I’m penniless, soon to be homeless
No magic genie to solve my situation, can I evoke
But I’m loved and I’m thought of
So for much more I can’t ask
These things we are “losing” are just material
And there’s nothing that, forever, lasts.

Conditional. Conditioned.

Freedom (supposed) in all things
The crux of what is truly wanted
The nature of this human desire
to look away from that….from them….which cause discomfort
Lock up truth in tall towers

Though this freedom be the desire
There’s much to be said
For the futility of imprisoning those
Already locked inside their own heads

Hidden society

Wine them, dine them
A well dressed table
Hides a multitude of sins
Dry your tears on the corner of the tablecloth
Whilst the wine causes their gaze to swim
Keep your grimace of a smile, plastered on
Until the last taxi pulls away
You are always the hostess
You always win

Polite society.

This undercurrent of vague niceties
That aren’t so vague
Those platitudes of the ilk of “we’re fine”
“Everything is ok”
Scream-whisper of hidden, heavy meaning
While their glassy eyed smiles, though wide
Split at the sides
And you know “things” are anything but ok
Yet evermore, the court of common courtesy holds sway
We continue, on and on
Bursting at the seams of polite society
With each passing day

.

There’s a little of you left in me.

It never went away.
It hid behind blood and bone.
digging deeper until

In my very essence

It found a home

How can something so small swallow up so much of a life?

Poem No. 39

He’s the quiet voice
That I need
But can’t always hear
Yet when my being is heavy
He lifts up my burdens
Helps lighten my load
Deep in my heart I feel Him
Deep in my being
He’s always near
When I’m cast adrift by the cruel acts of man
He’s always there to take my hand
To soothe my soul
Quieten my inner turmoil
Others may mock
Make jest, make light of the solemnity of Faith
But my saviour; Our Lord
Him, above all others
Will I never forsake
You have carried me through the deep
Through the darkest nights
My love upon high
My guiding light

Poem No. 38

There are so many things we are scared to say
So much that goes unsaid
For fear that truth will unleash something unknown, untold
Except
It’s said that only the truth will set you free
But where is the freedom to be found in the fear of letting go?
To finding out who one another really are?
There isn’t any
So let go
And let God.

Isolated

The world has been forced to take stock
While chaos forces us to remain locked…
Inside.
The freedom of man has been contained
We want to rise
Break free
From our boxes of inhabitation
But can’t, for fear
Of the fall of civilisation