Love has passed me by a moment that never was
an emptiness that has not been filled.
Valentines day has no meaning for me
indifference without emotions felt.
To some companionship is their wealth
others money or having good health.
    Not all of us can find that special individual
to share our daily lives together.
For some that is a life that willl never be
a single path is what has been marked.
Love is hard to define what does it mean
somehow I slipped around the scene.
    I envy nobody if they have found it good luck
life is a journey with many turns.
Negotiating them can be a challenge for many
does destiny exist are our lives planned?
It would have been nice to be close to someone
but we cannot all say our battles were won.
    On Valentines day I hope your love is real
and your futures the real deal.
  
  The Foureyed Poet.

The second I broke into that house
hearing the cries of despair.
That vicious dog snarling at my heels
as the rest of my police unit.
Handcuffed the vicious man shouting abuse
pleading for mercy and a truce.

His poor wife just sitting and crying
fear etched upon her damaged face.
Comforted by a female colleague so calm
as a stillness began to fill the place.
It was not easy being focused on this case
she passed me at a slow pace.

The years of abuse were clear to see
two children cowered so scared.
Whimpering in their filthy bedroom
that sense of sadness was strong.
How glad I was to leave that awful scene
a home where love should have been.

I heard the wife had dropped the charges
so common in violent cases.
No doubt the problems would be repeated
and trauma started over again.
Both children removed for their own welfare
to those who would give real care.

Cries of despair can be heard out there
where so many suffer unaware.

The Foureyed Poet.

A kind word or compassionate smile
means so much to a very lonely soul.
Who tries to be genuine and care
always willing to help and listen awhile.
Still trying to assess his life and role
yet always has a positive air.

Those who find it better to give than receive
can feel a deep sense of pride.
Not a saint or a martyr its true
only doing what they alone truly believe.
In thier minds knowing they've nothing to hide
determined to live each day through.

To love with your heart
a sparkle in the way you act.
Towards all that lives on earth
Appreciating each day from the start.
Trying to be kind and good is a fact
that we aim for from the moment of birth.

The Foureyed Poet.

Alone simmering rejected by the system
made to live without supervision.
Changes made to save the money
suppoesed to be on medical guidance.
Though not taken for over a week
somebody's life will soon be bleak.

Roaming the streets bored and confused
lack of medication beginning to tell.
In his pocket a knife he liked so much
no medical staff had made a visit.
Agitation growing he walked in a daze
a girl talking turned him out of phase.

Nobody knew what was about to happen
this young man charged knife in hand.
Slashuing and thrusting people scattered
disbelief screams and cries of pain.
Seconds passed the man overpowered
on the pavement the policeman towered.

Amazing seriously hurt but alive the victims
rushed urgently to the local hospital.
The man hancuffed taken into custody
even now he was fighting so petrified
scared and lacking his medical control
the failing system had taken its toll.

How many more are there with no support
and another avoidable tragedy to report?

The Foureyed Poet.

The young girl walked very slowly
down a crowded and noisy street.
Head bowed feeling alone and lowly
not wanting to talk shuffling her feet.
Dejection showed on her pretty face
looking much older than her years.
Yet another statistic lost without trace
in the dingy streets where evil appears.
Each day filled with such deep despair
forced to be abused just to survive.
Feeling no decent human was out there
not caring whether she was dead or alive.
Sixteen years had passed Elli by
parents had throwing her out at fourteen.
Confused and upset giving up wondering why
learning how life could be so mean.
Met a man she thought was so nice
but he introduced her to drugs.
Which led within a short time to vice
he was a **** one of the many thugs.
Deep in the rut unable to escape
just felt death was her only escape.
Desperately she called a good mate
who unknown to her had joined the police.
Through powerful inner strength and will
she broke away from this bottomless pit.
Now a happy eighteen year old no longer ill
she survived to tell the tale happy and fit.

The Foureyed Poet.

That moment when the enemy met
upon the muddy ****** fields.
In between the trenches of death
when guns fell eerily silent.
German soldiers voices were heard
singing carols fighting deferred.
One story of that incredible times
when enemy stopped killing.
Sanity replaced the madness of war
a mutual reaction of goodwill.
Instigated by the soldiers to each other
they became a father son brother.
Exchanging food cigarettes and much more
realising they were just like them.
German and British troops actually met.
On what was called no mans land.
It started in 1914 on Christmas day
that for a time hate went away.
Historical fact of the search for peace
if only that act could save lives.
In the chaotic theatres of conflict
that blight too many even now.
As it is realised we are all of one birth
on this our one earth.
Where is that Christmas truce?
The Foureyed Poet.

The last year has certainly flown by us all
good for some bad for many more.
Those with money still having a ball
all the rest who know what's install.
Taxes ascend told to tighten the belt
prices going up the pinch is felt.


Charity should begin at our own front door
the government increases overseas aid.
Road duty train prices increasing for sure
make them pay its the big tax raid.
Vultures who thrive when times are hard
not for them the overspent credit card.

Nor are they afraid of a big incoming bill
looking down upon us as poor fools.
As those without get more depreesed and ill
increasing their wealth we are the mules.
Communities full of much violence and hate
politicians take little action just debate.

The usual happy Christmas if you can afford it
but I like to think of those in need.
Brightness in dark places a simple candle lit
to see everybody is able to feed.
True meaning when kindness can be shown
a period none scared of the unknown.

That short span in time when we do realise
each soul is from the same mold
When humans can express kindness be wise
and not everybody is evil and cold
From me I wish the world and people goodwill
and compassion is within us still.

The Foureyed Poet.