There once was a garden where everything died
Even the birds had flown off to hide
The mighty oaks had lost all their branches
As for the flowers , long ago had they all of their chances

Even the sky turned black as it flew by
Then all of the clouds had to cry and cry
The floods could not wash away the pain
Those who lived there died or went insane

Laughter had been banned years ago
The crow's kaw kaw , was never a show
The only sound that was to be heard
was the wail of the missing violin's words

Under moonlight , by shadowy night
The strings cried blood and tears for sight
Even the moon overcome lost one dusty tear
to the life missing after all of these years .

One day the cry of the music stopped
The last string had now finally popped
The violin laid down in the ground
and there was never again another sound

And years had now gone on by
No one living then was left alive
There had been a revolt or so
Flowers once again started to grow

Trees sprouted out and began to bud
You could once again feel life's gentle nudge
The grass carpeted the woodland floors
and happiness returned to all once more

Now all had forgotten about the violin
But sometimes if you listen to the midnight's wind
You can hear it while it goes about tuning
for all it's sins had now long been forgiven

He, was always well composed,
what a father should be.
And she, plastered a smile day to day thinking next of what could be,
but it was always just a thought never acted.
The world sees what you want it to see,
how foolish of them,
how foolish of me.
But as a child you also see what you want to see, when the people you love the most hide behind a veil of protection,
Until that veil shatters.
And you are ****** into a world of unknown called adulthood,
you see the bruises, the letters, the threats of violence,
you remember his face,
but now behind his eyes it wasn't love that you saw,
it was possession.
The smile that you loved on your mother was to keep the tears at bay,
and the nightmares you had of her crying and begging were alive because they were right outside your door.

Now left to pick up the pieces,
there is a girl left abandoned,
a farther who hurt because he never loved,
a mother who still says “what if”,
and a facade unravelled.

We are a wall of lost children.
Tiny fingers fixing
the broken pieces
Of humanities innocence
mending her compassion,
sewing the stiches of
goodwill back into
her being.
Until goodness can be seen.
Till the stars look down
flaring with pride
to see our brighter side.
Children of the cosmos
fulfilling our purpose.

A poem about coffee
How cheap
How over used
A poet speaking on coffee
Is like a politician making a promise

But this is where we live
Our inner self brought out by consuming
Coffee, *****, drugs, love....

Pick your poison and get writing.

The fog creeps
Quietly over each
Tomb
The clouds covered
Our moon
Tonight, we are
Different
Wet leaves stick
To our skin, we dance
Softly over the
Dead
Jagged teeth
Bring the untimely
Demise
Of a child
We have become
Different
Knots on knots of
Rope
Hang from each
Rotting branch
New victims bring
A gift each night
You will never find
Someone that cares
For you more than
I do.