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Declan Quinn Jul 2018
Accept those thoughts in there,
Every one is yours alone.
On an acceptane and gratitude kick #workinprogress
Declan Quinn Dec 2015
Storms are raging, lightning striking all around.
Ugly faceless beasts, rising up out of nowhere.
All want a piece of me.
I fight alone, I cannot fail, I cannot concede.
I have to fight, the alternative is too… everything.

These are no beasts from a work of fiction.
They’re incorporeal but they are very much alive.
Only I can see them, but I can’t.
I know they’re there.

Anxiety, the first, scratching away at the nape of my neck,
Almost like some taloned spectre,
Cold and slick.
Wants me to scratch,
Wants me to give in.

The Low, the negative, the constant.
Not sadness but the absence of joy,
Nothing has relevance.
Devoid of rational thought,
The Low has won today.

Hopelessness, the last, like a warm duvet on a cold day,
Inviting me to lay down under it,
Inviting me hide my head under the cover and forget all else,
Too easy, there is still life outside the head.

Embrace the chaos,
Storm straight into the fire again,
I refuse to burn; I refuse to lie down,
I refuse to let it win.

This is a good fight and it’s worth fighting.
Too many have lost the fight,
Gave into the pill or the water,
My anchors are in the hearts of my loved ones.

I will survive to fight again tomorrow.
Declan Quinn Feb 2016
Do you see me?
Or are you just looking?
Do your hear me?
Or are you just listening?
Do you feel me?
Or are we just touching?
Do you want me?
Or are you just caught?
Do you want me?
Or do you just need me?
Happy Wednesday!
Declan Quinn May 2016
Once again, walking life’s tightrope,
What’s keeping me up here?
Is it love? Is it hope?

How many things can karma throw at me?
How many more rounds before the ref steps in?
Gives me a ten count. TKO?

Keep putting one foot in front of the other,
It’s not the height that worries me,
*It’s the fall over the one I won’t see coming.
Declan Quinn Jul 2016
Don’t lie
Don’t cheat
Don’t cry
Or no treats.

Every action rewarded by belt or praise.
Which is right?

Too much praise or too little belt?
Declan Quinn Apr 2018
I’d  never  have  thought  I'd  stray  before,  

But  that  was ­ before  she  moved  in  next  door.  

Those  passing  hellos  a­nd  smiles  for  my  wife,  

The  winks  and  glimpses  that  ru­ined  my  life.  

Who’d  have  known  that  little  old  me,  

­Would  swap  his  Toyota  for  a  nice  M-three!
I don't drive an M3
Declan Quinn Jun 2018
Will I bring you dying flowers?

You want me to court you,
You want me to wine n dine you
You want me to love your kids
You want your Mum to like me

But you still want dying flowers?

I want you to hold my hand
I want you to walk in the grass barefoot
I want you to sing to empty rooms

I’m not bringing you dying flowers

I want to give you seeds
I want you to water them
I want you to love something
That isn’t person or animal

There are no worse cuts than cutting through life that isn’t your own
Declan Quinn Feb 2016
I’m the boy with the quick replies,
I’m the man who’s dead inside.
I’m the boy with the broken tooth,
I’d better learn to shut my mouth.
I’m the lad with the bright red hair,
Getting beat down seems to be fair.
I’m the guy with the biggest fists,
That’s from my Dad, he doesn’t miss.
I’m the guy with the wolfish smile,
From my hooded eyes you should run a mile.
I’m the boy with the nervous stammer,
Such a shake, can’t lift my hammer.
I’m the boy with the pen in hand,
Still trying to learn to be a man.
I’m the man whose cup runneth over,
You stay back there, my former lover.
I’m the man who stands on tables,
She was the woman who wasn’t able.
I’m the old man sitting alone,
No one ever rings my phone.
I’m the boy who should’ve listened.
I’m also the man who’s never missed.
Feed my body and not my mind,
See the shell that’s left behind.
Little experiment with rhyming. I'm not good at it lol
Declan Quinn May 2016
I open up and show emotion.
Measuring levels of friendly devotion.
Self-analysis, mindful and all.
Driving change through the thickest wall.

Listeners smile that indifferent smile,
Awaiting the end, expression banal.
Change the subject, cheer up, be thankful,
Would be easier if I had a broken ankle.

A broken mind is harder to mend,
Hopefully before I go round the bend.
Where there’s life, there’s hope?
Or another cliché to avoid talk of rope.

The sun is out, the days are brighter.
Muscles in atrophy, smile no whiter.
Separating dark thought from obvious fact,
Or maybe I should improve the act?

Smiles that do not touch my eyes,
Surrounded by my paranoid spies.
Time to lift it, time to change,
Seems normality is out of range.

Now at days end, the cold sets in,
Still battling and thrashing the demon within.
My head’s still full of fear and doubt,
But everything’s fine when they’re without.

They don’t have to listen, nor even care.
Just be gracious,
Middling day for the happy depressed
Declan Quinn Dec 2015
Cheer up, he said.
Give yourself a shake, she said.

Take the pills, he said.
Talk to someone, she said.

Stop asking for attention, they said.
Stop putting your drama on Social media, they said.

Stop trying to tell people, they said.
Nobody cares, they said.

Everyone’s depressed, they said.
Everyone’s suffering, they said.

Hide your illness, I heard.
Hide your shame, I heard.
Not sure what to say about this one. People seem to resonate with it though. DJQ
Declan Quinn Apr 2016
Is it sadness or depression?
Is it rational worry or anxiety?
Do you know the difference?
Do I know the difference?
Is it a choice?
Then choose.
Life skills
Declan Quinn May 2018
I spent the evening walking by a water's edge.
Taking nothing in but the smells and sounds.
Rotting driftwood laying the base over two flies fighting or mating,
In a buzzing cacophony over the soft lapping of the tide.

I see a boat far out drifting rhythmically on a lonely swell.
But unlike me, it's empty, rudderless and aimless.
Or like I was, maybe. But not today.
Today I'm free to enjoy this peaceful escape, just minutes from my back door.

I used to be careful not to slip or trip into the murky black,
I wouldn't have had the strength to get back out then.
It's all me now, no pests, nobody's time but my own.
I like it here, I can just be.
Declan Quinn Jun 2018
In a room full of people there you were.
Two hundred eyes all seeing something different,
And there you were, seeing just one pair of eyes.
A solitary tear escapes my grip and tumbles onto the cold floor.
The tear is pride and affection.
I looked up again and there you are,
Being you.
Declan Quinn Apr 2018
Your tongue cut me,
The exit broke me,
I’m smiling hard,
Trying not to is harder.

New flat, new clothes,
Same mood, same toes.
I know that I’m looking at my feet!
Everyone knows I can’t face the street.

The pity party has started.
Marriage vows discarded.
Moving on is great
If you’re the one moving.

I wonder why?
Did we even try?
To fix the hole before it got that big.

A super massive black dog hole.
Big enough to drown in,
Big enough to frown in.
Far too big to live in.

The one thing I know for sure is,
These cuts are not going to heal at all,
If I don’t stop scratchin’
Yet another unfinished one... I think. Is it?
Declan Quinn Sep 2016
I can’t!
Did you try?
I won’t!
That’s better.
I lied.
I know.
I seem to be getting more deranged on Wednesdays lately.
Declan Quinn Jan 2016
As I turn this off and hide it from view,
The last person I want to hear from is you.
You’ve lied and cheated and let me down,
You’ve stolen my things again and again.

Don’t bother coming back, we don’t need you,
Take your lies and see now who really wants you.
Maybe the one from the back of the car?
Maybe the other you met in that bar?

Definitely not me, my time and my life,
I’m sure you’ll make another feel the strife.
You’ve had all your chances and burnt all bridges,
Go back under that rock, hide away and forget us.
Declan Quinn Mar 2016
I dreamed of fire, then of ice.
I dreamed the dull blade hack and slice.
I saw a Mother’s face, tears overspilling.
Pleading for heart’s peace, never stilling.
I saw a Father’s disapproval, seemed uncaring.
I know he feels much more, he’s just not sharing.
Heads and hearts are full of strife,
This one’s suffering is not by knife.
Sons' and daughters' lives in full flow,
The dead passed on and rest below.
Old age and pain abated by the joy
Of grandkids at play, new girls and boys.
Suffering is real, understanding is relative,
Thought and memory are the only derivative.
No end in sight, but this life’s not long,
Neither is it only for the strong.
So if you’re feeling weak and tired,
Sit by me, I’ve lit the fire.
Thursday mashup
Declan Quinn Sep 2016
You should have punched me, it would have hurt less.
You should have left me, I’d have got over it.
You should let me breathe, instead you suffocate.
You should have trusted me, before the love turned to distaste.
Guilty in love
Declan Quinn Sep 2018
Acceptance, the catalyst for healing,
When you accept it's value
Declan Quinn Mar 2016
I feel the crush of whimsical loss,
A torrent of torment flays my soul,
The gravity of attachment pains my hands
Walking through fire-swept brush, I feel nothing.
My heart feels it all, every lance, every sin.
Keep the clown smiling within,
The empathetic attach to my broken frail corpse.
High on a cloud wishing I was still of substance,
Wishing someone had just asked me,
To just accept my malady of the mind,
As a quirk and not the sum of me.
Friday feeling :) Eh?
Declan Quinn Apr 2016
Voices are screaming,
Heart is hammering,
Skin is sweating,
Lips are trembling,
Limbs are aching with phantom pain,
I think my brain tumour is back again.
Is that the DT’s?
Or is it disease?
Won’t someone listen? Please? Please?
Priceless things, those good friends’ ears.
Wish I’d known that over the years.
Bottled up and seeping out,
Feel the venom while I shout.
Poisoned by my own reticence,
Maybe I need another penance?
Forgiving myself for all the guilt,
Making myself accept the trip.
Relief is temporary, pain is real
I bet you can’t tell what I feel.
Guilt, shame, fear and doubt.
That’s what my poor life was about.
But no more! Says I,
I’d rather die.
Than give in to it, or sit, and sigh.
And now I learn I’m allowed to cry.
I love Friday, can you tell?
Declan Quinn Mar 2016
Trying not to think so much,
To not break the rules and such,
Trying to fit my square in little round holes,
Maybe too late to save our souls.
Trying & trying, always trying,
Keeps me busy but always sighing.
Enigmatic parlance for the used and abused,
Mother’s milk for the lost and confused.
Pity and empathy are opposite things.
Misery and helplessness always brings
The wrong ones, the unbroken and the unhealed and the ******
The unhappy, the sick and those body-slammed.
One more battle and one more fight,
Eventually I’ll tell myself I’m alright.
Aren't Wednesdays great! Happy Wednesday poets!
Declan Quinn Feb 2016
Chin lifted off chest this morning,
You only saw the top of my head for weeks.
But I have no apologies, only truths.
Can you handle the truth of it?
Want to climb in here with me for a day?
OK, all is fine. No problems here.
I’ll keep smiling and you keep not caring.
No expectations, no disappointments.
No questions, no lies.
Cry when it’s too late for tears.
Yeah, this.
Declan Quinn Jun 2018
Just because I tell you that you’re pretty
Doesn’t mean I’m taking you home

Beauty is kindness

Love isn’t defined by the size of your waist
Nor how long you can hold my gaze

Beauty is still kindness

I may tell you I love you
Years before I want you

Just be kind to me

Take a piece of me with you
In the dark days it may light the way

Now be kind to you

Love is within
Share it

Declan Quinn Apr 2016
Pulled apart by thought, not horses.
Imagined enemies have become my saviours.
Truth peddlers work for free, liars require restitution.
Free thought is seldom without its price.
I am not always right, even when I am.
Is this wisdom or a pretty collection of words?
Declan Quinn Oct 2017
"The Anniversary" is approaching way way too fast,
Almost a year since...
Eleven months of "getting on with it, you know?"
Eleven months of "what do you do?"
Eleven months of "Mum's fine, thanks."
Eleven months of "I miss him every day."
When the next anniversary rolls around,
Will I still be writing?
Is this really catharsis?

Is there an end to the questions?
Declan Quinn Oct 2016
When you saw me sit with my head in my hands,
When you saw me unshaven and shabbily dressed,
When you saw the smile, that rigid liar's smile,
When you saw me cry, and then laugh on point,
When you saw me suffer in silence,
Did you feel anything? Or see anything at all?
I see it all, feel it all, torture myself with it all.
One kind word or that one question,
Would have changed my life, and maybe would have saved me.
Declan Quinn Feb 2016
Did I ask for help?
Easy for those out there looking in.
Shame fills my emptiness.
Pride is long lost among the
Apathy. I reek of
Insensible poetry, palms are
Rooted to the shame of it.
Believe it or not, this is what I write when I'm in a good mood! :) ;
Declan Quinn Apr 2016
Orwellian insight provoking apocalyptic visions of prophetic rodents,
Mammalian entropy divining inconsequential apathy,
Veracity overshadowed by facility,
Empathy vanquished by semblances of narcissistic affliction.
Alacrity a surrogate for hollow accomplishment.
Disturbances are null and frivolous in midweek ennui.
Trying something...
Declan Quinn Dec 2015
I’m not winning, I’m punch drunk.
I’m just waiting for the next disappointment
I keep getting battered, my best defences are weakening,
It’s draining me of all rationale,
The writing is on the wall, I’m going to end it.

I process these thoughts which lead to the bridge for some,
The blade or the pill or the clifftop for others.
But I’m aware, I know my enemy.
It will not defeat me, this most horrible of foes.
I see him in the mirror each day

This charming face belies the monster within,
This self-loathing, destructive ugly thing.
But it only hurts itself, only directs the worst venom inward.
You think what I shouted at you was the worst of it?
You’re crying! You should feel this in here with me.

This cancerous lump of emotion belongs nowhere,
It’s in my head, but not my heart.
Whenever the lights come on I still have that.
I cling to it like a life raft in the storm.
Then the clouds break and I’m free!

I fly so high it’s dizzying, exhilarating, fulfilling!
Until the fall, not like a dream fall,
Slow, almost inch by inch from a great height.
There is no soft landing, just a thud and the darkness
Then it’s Tuesday.
This is a pretty normal day for me when the depression tries to take me over. I simply refuse to let a chemical imbalance put me over the edge. It's not a battle, it's a ****** war!
Declan Quinn Oct 2016
Physical body crashed out on floor, eyes shut tight against the torrent.
Emotional demons battling the ethereal in the theatre of my mind.
The supposed friends, the right choices judged to be wrong by the foresight of conscience.
Damning them all to sections of an imagined chart inside this wretched brain, pondering ridiculous questions.
The hard ones,
The final ones.
Who goes? Who stays? Who lives on?
The process splatters what’s left of my psyche all over the inside of my skull.
Nobody wins, no medal for everyone and no certificate.
There’s no just reward.
Is life about this battle or is the raging battle life?
Who, or what, will win this one? My money's on no one
Declan Quinn Mar 2016
Too late? she asked
Too late for, can we talk? He said.
Too late for the talk,
Too late for the words,
Too late for empathy.
Too late to save it.
Too late, just too late.

Too soon? He asked
Too soon, she said.
Too soon for more lies,
Too soon for the truth
Too soon for the return.
Too soon to fix it.
Too soon, but not forever.
Too many too's?
Declan Quinn Apr 2016
Battering wind and rain outside,
They said sunny today, they must’ve lied
Inside, in here, with me and mine,
It’s blistering hot with streaming sunshine.
That’s for today, on a high, exalted.
Yesterday I felt assaulted.
Battered and bruised but never broken.
You’re Damaged are the words misspoken.
Both eyes are open instead of one.
I have my own light, no desire for sun.
I’ll open my door and put out the dark fire,
I welcome you all in to relax and admire,
My new me and my gift to myself,
I’ve taken my happiness down from off my shelf.
I’m holding it now, small and precious.
It’s light and love will refresh us.
Come sit by me, come hold my hand,
Smile with me and the depression be ******.
Extrapolating feelings from an old fashioned man, getting easier. Thanks for being my ear :)
Declan Quinn Jul 2016
I started the story with "Years ago", then it made me think.
The things I used to do each week, began to make me stink.
The high barstool, the flies and lies just put me out of kilter,
So I settle for a coffee now and forget about the filter.

Lies, lies, the wonderful lies and all to get a drink,
Ignoring the scorn on my mother’s face and not bothering to think.
When at last, my good friend said to me, "you’ll have a heart attack",
I settled for a water then and tried to forget the black.

Then the lass who tried in vain, to break me and abuse me.
Kept me under the spell of her and tried her best to use me.
Then one day I looked down at the face, of the child I hold so dear,
But I was just out of the shower then and heading for a beer.

It wasn’t months but more like years, before I lost the notion.
I watched my friends and family too, all drown in legal potion.
Now I sit and write and think, but not about the *****.
Now at peace, and I figured out, when I drink they all lose.
The Black refers to my previous love of Guinness! I am Irish after all!
Declan Quinn Dec 2015
All I know, unknown
All I learned, unlearned
All I believed in, doubted

Fairness is just an empty word
Karma is just a notion
Consequences are relative

Life is life
Make of it or don’t.
Lay your own path

Just don’t ask the poets
They know as much
The Mystery is the reward
Declan Quinn Dec 2015
There’s an ugly little pinch at the back of my ear,
What did I say exactly, she’s gone for good, I fear.
After the *****, the stagger, the cab,
I found myself on the couch, adding up the tab.

Flashbacks with nightmares of nasty words,
How could I say that to her! I’m no expert with girls.
The beer and the spirits owe me no favours
And when all’s said, they’re all the same flavour.

The flavour is bitterness, regret and despair,
Fuel for the morning after and pulling out hair,
Out of one’s own head for being so thoughtless
Am I pushing myself to a life that’s loveless?

So I’ll say “Never again” and push for the weekend.
But throughout the week, my resolve becomes weakened.
Until Thursday, I’ll give in and go for “a couple”.
Sick of pints by Friday, I’ll go on the doubles.

So again comes Sunday, she’s still with me.
Her pillow is wet and smudged, my throat is dry.
I can’t lose the memory of that pathetic cry.
I did it again, I let the drink win.

But it’s Sunday so I’ll say “Never Again”
Drinking used to be fun
Declan Quinn Feb 2016
The trouble isn’t ahead of me,
It’s staring me in the face.
I’m looking blankly past it,
Pretending it doesn’t exist.

It’s come to tempt me over
To the edge of the abyss.
Pills stuck in my throat last time.
I know I’ll not be missed.

I’ve hurt them too many times,
I can’t look in their eyes.
Sadness looks back at me,
And hurt and surprise.

There will be no cry for help,
No suicide note, no guilt.
Just a clumsy pile of clothes and,
The useless piles of tears.

Don’t mourn for me just learn from it.
Go and spill your guts.
Don’t be the coward I turned out to be.
Stand up, be brave, no buts.
Declan Quinn Aug 2016
One more week,
I didn’t spend the time I should.
One more day,
I didn’t say what needed said.
One more hour,
So you can tell me those things I already know.
One more minute,
So I can tell you the same.
One more second,
Of that silent, perfect love.
One more,
Declan Quinn Sep 2016
Did you think I wasn’t watching? Or,
Did you think that I wasn’t there?
Did you think I left without a word or I simply didn’t care?

Did you think of how I was feeling? Or,
Did you think of my clothes or hair?
Did you think, because I was in the room , that my mind was also there?

Did you think that I wouldn't notice? Or,
Did you think that you'd make me care?
Did you think it was alright to move along as if I never was there?

Am I supposed to keep on caring? Or,
Am I supposed to pretend to care?
Am I supposed to move along anyway with all the doubt in the air?

Maybe I should have shouted more? Or,
Maybe I should have lied?
Maybe I should have walked years ago, long before it died.
Wednesdays are always worse than Mondays
Declan Quinn Jun 2017
Well after midnight, dark out, rise at seven am.
Metallic bangs and piercing whistles going off in my head.
Sleep is like the memory of a kindergarten toy,
Once loved, but disappeared among the trials in between.
Getting up tired for the fifth time this week.

Robotically dress, wash, eat.
If I can stomach anything.
No real thought process forming,
Nothing going on but everything crashing together at once.

My head has a dull ache, not pain.
My limbs are cramped and lethargy rages throughout me,
Muscle and mind.
I try to think of something to look forward to.
Nothing seems worth it today, but I will fight again tomorrow.

Saturday morning, I awake at 7am, so much for the lie in.
Joyless prospect of tolerating those around me I do love.
My friend who is not my friend,
Is beckoning me down into the thoughtless mire
I’ll go on today.

And start all over again tomorrow.
One of the dark days a while back
Declan Quinn Oct 2016
My tormentor returned today,
The strain almost broke my mind again.
Took every ounce of strength I had to move.
Now I'm drained, mentally sapped,
Even my bones feel worn.
The tornado of ridiculous thought almost broke down my door.
It took a stranglehold on my rationale.
I almost tapped out, almost gave in.
Then the clouds parted, my was rock reformed,
By a soft reminder of how much I'm loved,
And how much I'd be missed.
Tough weekend under siege
Declan Quinn May 2016
We know it’s coming, just as inevitable as life.
Is it enough to drive you back to the God you disowned?
Where do your loved ones go if there’s no heaven?
Life is for the living and death is for the dead.
Is the destination more important the journey now?
Was it ever?

Box me, plant me, carry on in life.
Burn me or sink me, surely it’s all the same?

One less soul to be saved.
One less soul to love.
One more to add to the great silent majority.
One more to hear our prayers.
Declan Quinn Feb 2016
Fill me up, I’m empty
Fillet me, I’m cooked
Use me, I’m blind
Cook me, I’m basted
**** me, I’m done.
Yell at me, I’m deaf
Ogle me, I’m not pretty
Understand, read between the lines
#specialsomeone #becausetuesday
Declan Quinn Mar 2017
I’d love to sit and watch the flowers grow,
Never wondering where from or when or how.
I’d love to be hugged and to not try,
To work out now exactly why.
I’d love to hear a songbird sing,
Never asking how they took to the wing.
I’d love to read a thousand more books,
And not once be asked how it looks.
I’d love to exist in peace, and dream,
Of pretty things and those less extreme.
I’d love to sleep with a peaceful mind,
Not wondering why moles are blind.
A fairy tale life, never pondering existence.
Is this the price of my intelligence?
Inspired by a group of people I love dearly who have shown me life is not hard, we make it hard by our reactions to things
Declan Quinn Jul 2016
I have nothing I didn’t earn,
But it took me forty years to learn,
The lessons my wise old Father taught me,
All the gifts of life and love he brought me.
There’s nothing lost in a fight but pride,
And nothing to be gained in taking sides.
Be a clown or wear a sad frown,
The value of everything is going down.
Looking so far forward, they think I’m backward.
Now I’m writing things close to awkward.
Smashing, splashing, is it all a dream?
Waiting for the boat to come back upstream.
Alone with nature, finding peace,
Scribing and thinking, looking for release.
The peace that will never, ever come,
I’ll keep looking anyway, my face is numb.
My heart is sick and all because,
My wise old man is almost lost.
Declan Quinn Dec 2015
Is thought tangible?
Can I pass mine on without committing to paper?
Can I have yours?
Can you see in my eyes I’m broken?
Do you accept I can be fixed?
Will you discard me like a difficult crossword?
Will you complete me?
Will you still love me when this all comes to light?
Will you still love me if I stay in the dark?
Am I beyond repair?
Do I need repair?
Will you fix me?
Can I go on like this?
Will you accept it all?
Or will you pick the things you like & discard the rest?
I’m not lost, I just don’t know where I am.
Declan Quinn Apr 2016
Almost was addicted to the numbness.
All thought and no deed makes pharma rich.
Give me a sunset and a laugh over pills any day.
Want to live there? Go right ahead.
I’ll be over here, smiling after climbing out.
Hope I'm on the right path :)
Declan Quinn Dec 2015
Yesterday’s thoughts like white-water crashing
These are fainter today, like a babbling brook
Not quite abated but more still.
Allowing thought and deed to harmonise,
Even for an hour, I’ll take it.

The image of my loved ones etched,
My child, now a woman, forefront always
The absolute best of us personified
Love is the unbreakable bond between us
Come feel, hear the quiet and smile with me.
Declan Quinn Feb 2016
I feel extra special down today,
Said some things I needn’t say.
I left it hanging to be forgotten,
Building up inside, turning rotten.

To think I wanted her to leave me.
The only one who actually sees me.
Another excuse to justify my end,
I am for certain going round the bend.

She will forgive me, and forget.
But I don’t have many chances left.
Either in or out, it’s getting serious.
When it started we were both delirious.

Soul mates and the best of friends and lovers
Out in public or under the covers.
Family the cement keeping us together,
Gives us strength to brave the weather.

Today it's raining inside and out,
My mind's full of crippling doubt,
No good within and none without
No open space to scream or shout.

Trapped in here with myself and others
Wish I could explain this to my brothers.
Who rally round and pat my back,
When all I want is two bricks and a sack.
One of those days, again.
Declan Quinn May 2016
Horror and torment around every corner,
Love & compassion in the shadows,
Empathy a screamingly silent partner,
Begging for release.
Crocodile tears against a gathering of flowers,
Teddy in a football shirt, imploring why?
Was a decision made?
Or were fifty-seven lives caught in the same tornado?
They can be seen now, scattered all over the blood soaked street.
Stunned at the act, emptied by the loss.
Of another one, gone before life had really begun.
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