I always seem to have needed lots of time
To stare......at nothing
I went through my entire education
Staring through windows
At nothing much
Indeed, the essence of a good stare,
Is not to focus on anything
But to find that comfortable place
Where thoughts can wander
To find nourishing places to dwell
Where poetry is born

                                     By Phil Roberts

Dust amidst dust
A resting place of sorts
However many kites you flew
You never left the ground
You never heard a sound
Beyond the rage you screamed
Tearing down flags
In revolutionary rags
And changing nothing
Going nowhere
Sat in your armchair
Dust amidst dust

                                By Phil Roberts

if every cloud has a silver lining
that's gonna make for some heavy rain
underneath this sky, i am finding
myself being crushed, and drenched in pain