i read an article and agreed,
this word is toxic for you and me.
whenever i try to speak
and bring about a sense of peace
you boy me off without a thought.
you are always too b u s y.
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 5:51 PM UTC
1:20 A.M.
hey, I just wanted to tell you I miss you.
read 1:21
no response.
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 5:38 PM UTC
You hide behind your primary colours worth billions of dollars.
While the ordinary man live a life serving for paper, fighting your wars.
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 5:30 PM UTC
It’s been a month,
Feels like a new life,
Hopes and dreams await.
There are things that I want, things I feel,
Things that I still don’t know.
A new place,
A new home,
Exciting new things await.
What lies ahead I do not know,
I hope it's worth the wait.
Still afraid,
A little bit unsure,
Many a day I feel insecure.
Seek comfort in all that you find familiar they say,
But that’s not what this move was for.
I will still try,
I will not fail,
Determination is what I seek.
A new phase, a new life,
Is what I would like to achieve.
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 8:00 AM UTC
if you wake every morning
and do nothing to make your life better
it will not get any better
if you wake every morning
and do something to make your life better
then surely no matter
how bad life might seem right now
it will get better
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 4:56 AM UTC
Once I had a wee brown hen,
it had a wee brown tail.
I sent it for a penny of sweeties it never back again.
Now it's dead and in it's grave,
many a many a day.
God bless my wee hen.
It never came back again.
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 12:31 PM UTC
Her name was Nicola.
She adored the sky.
A natural born traveler.
Who loved being outside.
This was her favourite view.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 8:04 PM UTC
Tonight I went to a house warming party,
Just to be nice,
When I really should have been at home,
With my hungover head on ice.
I didn't like most of the people there,
They bored me in fact,
Especially the cliche hippies with long dreaded hair,
Clothes, barely intact.
As the night went on,
The washed up ****** ****
Came through the gate.
One by one by one.
I don't have time for people,
They drain me.
Trying to be nice by buying minors alcohol,
But no one repays me.
The welcome wasn't the warmest,
I was patronised because of my mode of transport,
By yet another ****** ****
And his tattered up Jansport.
Eighteen years to realise,
That the public and I don't get a long.
Eighteen years later and I can guarantee,
That i'll be singing my own funeral song.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 3:44 PM UTC
A celebration.
Another source of liberation.
Between these sweat drenched walls of intoxication.
This is my life.
Wondering a maze of moral corners.
Passed under the lights of no last orders.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 3:28 PM UTC