stephanie burrows

stephanie burrows Dec 2017

I am no angel.
Crossed many lines.
Made mistakes.
Learned lessons.
I am a poet.
Not a lair.

I wrote this after me and my friend where talking we both have different views on poets. He calls it creative liying and I see it as an art form and a way to express your selfs and feelings

stephanie burrows Dec 2017

lost poems

Forgotten words.
Blank pages.
Empty lines.
A lost poem.
Is like a dream you can't remember.

I had a poem in my head and I was about to write it down and I got a phone call. By the time the call was done I had forgot the poem. Which inspired this poem.

stephanie burrows Dec 2017

words

Do?
My words sound like a rant.
Are my words too real.
Are my words not real enough.

I just write what ever comes into my head this is my first poem of the day.

stephanie burrows Dec 2017

home

Love turns to hate.
Pavements made with tears and heart ache.
Growing tiered of the place once loved.
Not a home but a prison without the bars.
Tiered of playing never ending games.
Watching every move made.
Watching your back day and night.
Never knowing what happens.
Sleepless nights and worrying minds.
Can't die here like others before me have.
Searching for a happy ending.
No more moving from place to place.
Hoping for one good Christmas.
All I ever wanted was a place to call home.

stephanie burrows Dec 2017

Loves call

Why?
Is it that I can only think of you.
Your touch your sweet gentle kiss.
The smile that stole my heart.

Why?
is it that every road taken bring me back into your arms, where it always feels the safest place to be.

Why
is it that your heart returns my call everytime leaving me wanting and needing you more.

stephanie burrows Dec 2017

they don't care

Children pushed into poverty.
School meals taken away.
Taxing everything.
More and more lies.
Food banks under pressure.
Families suffering everyday.
Blaming everyone one else.
Never taking responsibility.
People choosing between food or heating.
The truth is never to be told.
A government that lives in a dream.
They never did care about us.
Only a fool believe that they do.

I wrote this because the people in power never care about us or the people they are damaging. It makes me wonder why people think the government cares when they don't.

stephanie burrows Jan 2018

my only friend

Given so much.
Asked for nothing.
Watched people leave.
No good byes said.
Never seen or heard.
Darkness is my only friend.
Loneliness is the blanket that surrounds me.