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adam-nunn
adam-nunn
39/M/Kent Dad, husband, dog owner, rugby player, sailor and dreamer
It eats away at me, Telling I'm not good enough Filling my head with doubt Questioning my fitness to do What you ask me to do Telling me failure will follow Yet on I go because you count On my to do it - to deliver And solve the crisis But how can I when I don't believe in me?
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Jul 22, 2019
Jul 22, 2019 at 10:43 AM UTC
I don't believe
That's one hell of band They've got up there Give them one last hand To show you care. The musical talent ; The genius on high Is clear for all to hear For those playing in the sky. Music makers and performers Guitarists and drummers Singers and song writers, Some maestros, others just strummers The Heartbreaker joins then now A list that expands every year. Impossible to think of the choir Formed above, and not shed a tear
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Oct 2, 2017
Oct 2, 2017 at 5:40 PM UTC
The greatest band ever formed
Overlooking a desolate moorland plain Perched on the windswept slope A memorial to a lost pilot, The simple cairn - a remembrance of hope Of a young man - a son and brother. He lost his life acting beyond his scope. The scars of what happened lives on Affecting those left behind The passage of time might heal But the process is never kind - Memory lingers, surfacing when least expected To reinforce the ties that bind. Greater love they say For friends, then how about for a stranger? Most people head the other way, Only the brave head towards the danger - Call it duty, call it stupidity Whatever called that day, was a life changer. You didn't come back to us. You lie in the cold earth Far from home, from family; But everyday, people remember your worth The life you lived, the love you gave, your death; a memory gave birth.
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Sep 22, 2017
Sep 22, 2017 at 5:31 PM UTC
The impact of 82
Why do you hate me? Why do you slate me? Why do you bait me? Why do you denigrate me? Does it give you power? Does it make you happy? Does it drive you forward? Does it elevate you somehow? Whatever your motives, Whatever your reasons, You won't break me - I am stronger than you
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Sep 22, 2017
Sep 22, 2017 at 5:23 PM UTC
To my client
Earbuds in, Sunglasses on, Laptop out, Coffee cup ready Full protective shield set to stun Insulated travel bubble in place. Ignore the good morning nods, Pretend you can't see the old lady standing, as slowly the train plods To the station and the office you hate. The Metro is SO interesting Though the page hasn't turned for 2 stops. Ticket check is a hassle - so boring How dare the guard disturb Pretend you're in a zen state Where nothing can disrupt, Whilst hoping there's something to make you late To your office for the job you loath Trains delayed, cows on the line Will we make up the time? So you can be at your desk by nine Even though you've nothing to do. Day after day, it's the same Where did you lose your humanity When did life stop being a game To play, but rather to survive?
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Sep 2, 2017
Sep 2, 2017 at 5:13 PM UTC
The commuter
He huddles in the corner , Another bruise forming on his face, The result of a fight, one sided at best. Oh **** how he hates this place. He's not like the rest - his parents aren't rich, they don't live in a country pile. He's there because he has to be, circumstances conspire but it's not his style. He knows he's different But worst is, so do they. If entertains them to bully him, As some weird form of play. He'd fight back but he knows how it ends, A smack in the face, a broken lip Pulled hair, clothes all messed up, Everything put down to a slip. does no one see it - what's in front of their eyes? Does no one care how he suffers? At home he's loved but here, not the same, Body slamming a wall like train hitting buffers. One day it will end. He won't inflict it on others, he knows the cost the pain will make him a better man, More feeling for those, others lost.
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Jul 20, 2017
Jul 20, 2017 at 3:42 AM UTC
Bullied and alone
The morning light creeps across the deck Picking out the colours - Black becomes grey Becomes a brighter hue, sparkling crystals Reflections of salt flung spray Witnessing the start of a new day The beginning of a cycle of life - Of death, success and failure. Light pierces the eyes like a knife The horizon line shifts, Slitting sea from sky. The detail defining as the light strengthens Soon the trip below to be warm and dry. Morning energy fills the upcoming crew, Those who have served the night Slowly climb down the below Anxious not to leave the day's new light.
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Jul 20, 2017
Jul 20, 2017 at 3:37 AM UTC
The Dawn of a new day at sea
The wake trails behind A fleeting mark on the ocean surface, Myriad millions of sea creatures mark it's passing Before life settles back - the waves roll on A crew at ease on deck Under the cover of the stars, Ross' southern cross As music plays to pass the time Suddenly, A splash off to one side An explosion of phosphorus light A dolphin shape, propelled along Scattering microbes with its tail Like tracer through the night sky A path to see it passing by - A leap and return to the sea, Disney cartoon effect for real. A moment of connection Of man and creature One in its element, one passing through; Both on a journey east to the rising sun
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Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 2:53 AM UTC
A night encounter at sea
In their millions they came - From the the newest and the oldest lands To fight, to make good on the claim That they would stand when the empire called. Those who have been left behind many thousands never found again. And those who returned home to find A life forever changed, gaps in the familiar. those who stayed, lie in europe's red earth, It's warm, eternal embrace Their final berth That holds them safe for the rest of time. Their passing marked by a simple stone. A name, a date and a symbol of belonging. Maybe a word from a beloved has shown, A man once here but now no more. The sun tans their faces in the morning And warms their backs at dusk. Those men who listened to their country's calling, Forever Buried under the birdsong chorus.
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Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 1:09 AM UTC
Those who stay behind
High on the Ridge; Visible from miles around. 73 thousand names, Of those with bodies never found. Portland stone And red iron brick. The names of the dead Lie heavy and thick. Men who lived but silent now; Preserved forever for all to see. Now memories from a time before, Those who Died to keep Europe free With birdsong of lark; And kestrel in hovered flight. Rest in peace, The long never ending night.
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Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 1:05 AM UTC
Thiepval, Northern France