Sickness.





I remember I changed and the world didn't care so I hate her;

the sun hit my face and I cowered away thinking the dark is much better;

I sat in a rage as I watched myself age because It didn't really matter;

the thought of feeling good made me sick as the voices grew in my head so increasingly faster;

taking drugs to feel sane as I melted away to see something that everyones after;

I know I gave up because my teeth fell out of my head and my *** became ever much fatter;

so I light up my cigarette with a cake in my hand and think I wonder what happened to Peter.

The death of me

I am now estranged from everything I once was
The very simple things that change because
A lover loved someone and then was crossed
I sat and cried for hours and something in me now was lost
No more sunshine in my life but just clouds memories unwashed
Repeating nightmares and voices in my head all rushed
No desire to endure anything unlike the boy I crushed
Here I am just standing naked in the rain for people like us
The name of Peter I once was but just a person that died in a corridor of a hospital; ashes to ashes dust to dust.

Number 1

Shifting desert dunes underneath the bright reflective orange sun
It's amazing what we turn to when the sea ends we must learn to run
All we have is each other and when we gather all we do is build walls till the stillness of the night time comes
We can't fight nature because there's only one then we look around us at what we've done
Hear the beat of the drum it's in rhythm with the Earth and the numbers don't stack up because some don't add up to the sum
Something to think about when you're sitting in the sun and mathematically we shouldn't be here it's just a prime number that we are from.

She

A silhouette holds my hand
When a whale is trapped on land
A cemetery for an old broken man
A church candle lit on a lamp stand
She tore my heart out;
She tore my heart out.

no one knows



as darkness descends my sorrow shows

a broken heart forever froze

a sadness that never goes

an emptiness where love once glowed

a deep awareness of lost souls

a desert endless with no tomorrows

a shadow where a man once followed

a condescending word or look swallowed

as society does not care or share nor borrows

a few words inside my mind that always wallows

as light ascends there is no sorrow

as darkness only reminds me of the past and why in a light beauty of colour always and forever knows.

Scarecrow dancing in the moonlight.


Made of wood and cleaves of hay,
he stands alone whilst birds circle around each day.

On a cross he is tied and bound,
an old hat he wears with holes in, all ***** and brown.

A sack cloth for a jacket, all grey and damp like the ground,
hands made from coat hangers all wiry and pointy like the corn that surrounds.

A head made from an old popped football and scuffed,
the eyes made of coal and a smile painted on like a woman you can't trust.


But deep inside is a magical thing,
that's asleep in the day time but comes alive when the sun goes in.

A man in a tuxedo with a smile so bright,
who sings opera in the moonlight.


A scarecrow no more,
but a magical thing,
that's beautiful, magnificent, he dances and sings,
but no one can ever see him you see,
it's just between him, you and me.

Pink river

Pink petal with a single raindrop put upon
A tear from your cheek runs down inside from
Feeling the rain soaks me to become passion torn
A flood then becomes a river in which life can form
Not in me as my heart and mind are like windmills forever turning yet purpose long ago gone
Try to understand I am a man with a rite to write his love songs