What does happen in the night?,
where restless youths beg for a fight,
where women with all dignity lost, will sell you their services at a cost,

where men will pay for their hunger to sate and tell their wives they're coming home late, where knowing wives are sat at home, waiting by the telephone, hoping he has done what's right, but that's not what happens in the night.

The children cower in their beds, the fear of the night sat in their heads, imagining monsters, causing fright, but that's not what happens in the night.

The children do not know, why mothers eyes are red, why father is not home, tucking them into bed, but father is still searching for that which will excite, for this is what happens, in the absence of light.

Sometimes a poet's muse
                            comes

          e
        r
   ­       r   a
               t  
               i c
              a
             l
               ly



like     a
           puzzle
                           s  c  a  t  t  e  r  r  e  d
on
          the            marble
            
        of
                      his
                               imagination
    

       then
                   he
picks
              his     quill
with

                 his
                          witty
hands
                      
and arranges
his  thoughts
into a poem.

I can't fit my feet into
your shoes. So, I do
not know where it itches.

I haven't walked on your
heels. So, I do not know
how it feels to walk on
the roads that you walk.

I have not struggled to
unshackle those chains
that have for so long held
you captive. So, I do not
know how it feels to fight
your battle.

When I look at you, I see
sweet laughter fermented
into sour smiles as you try
to turn your back against
the world. The scars you
carry are a souvenir of the
many injuries you incurred.

And although I haven't
passed through your
experience, I can look into
your eyes and tell you this;
"I feel your pain".

Never trust the establishment
They do not exist for our benefit
For they believe  that we exist
For their convenience
Their only purpose is self-perpetuation
And they think that our only function
Is to accommodate that purpose
Whereas our true cause should be
To get rid of the *******

                                        By Phil Roberts

please don't fall in love with someone else

please don't be in love with someone else


please don't have somebody waiting on you