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May 2023 · 74
Untitled
Barry May 2023
Stumbling along lifes rocky road.
Yet still landing on one's feet.
Left to wonder sometime.
How everything seem to work out at the last minute.
Only to remember for every negative there is a positive.
Apr 2023 · 194
Untitled
Barry Apr 2023
Shifting through time neather back nor forward.
Left to be always in the middle.
Given no clues of what is to be.
Not even tomorrow is a sure thing.
And yet we are in our own way.
At least for today.
Apr 2023 · 244
A cruel fate
Barry Apr 2023
A mind grown in time.
No longer recognizing itself .
Carefree youth stolen by time.
Replaced by the cost of maturity .
Forced to face reality.
That nothing is ever free.
Apr 2023 · 64
The writer
Barry Apr 2023
Living between the pages and lines.
Written through days and nights.
Where the real me comes to life.
Letting go of the fake what other people would make of me.
And turning instead to another page to make it my own.
Leaving my mind to wonder with its own thoughts.
While feeling right at home, even if nowhere but between the
pages and lines of a book.
Mar 2023 · 75
Untitled
Barry Mar 2023
House of cards stacked from one pack.
House of cards holding strong.
Perfectly balanced within its walls.
And yet delicate for if one was to move it would fall.
Jul 2022 · 73
Untitled
Barry Jul 2022
Rolling dice through the days.
Drawing cards by night.
Living
in this life of chance.
Taking possibilities as they my come.
Living
not for sitting still..
For only nothing comes from nothing.
Jul 2022 · 73
Untitled
Barry Jul 2022
fractions of time
fleeting by.
Yet creating in their wake
the days and nights.
In which we stand.
Giving
and yet sometimes
Taken
for granted.
Yet every fraction in time.
Should be taken as being precious.
Jul 2022 · 74
Untitled
Barry Jul 2022
Lost voice
unable to be heard.
Like
That of a missing page of a book.
No longer able to be read.
And yet
this voice.
Given time and rest will return..
Yet in losing something.
It may give time for something else to be found.
Jul 2022 · 63
Untitled
Barry Jul 2022
Owning that of who I am.
Not
flawless in any way.
Yet accepting the flaws.
That are apart of me.
And
yet they are not all of who I am.
And in knowing and accepting yourself.
For who you are.
Let's no one fault you.
Jul 2022 · 75
Untitled
Barry Jul 2022
Cast out into the unknown.
Or just another day or night.
Living
with time being something one can not save.
As it comes and goes.
With the sun by day moon by night.
Yet
it's how we spend our time.
That's
what counts the most.
Jul 2022 · 587
Untitled
Barry Jul 2022
Lost
in an entanglement of your words and mine.
Looking
not for a way out.
When
something's so right even time can be lost.
Found
in simple things sometimes are where answers are hiding.
Given that we know where to look.
Jun 2022 · 59
Untitled
Barry Jun 2022
Living through the works we write.
As the ink carries on even after we have gone.
Leaving behind a look through the window.
Off what used to be the person, behind the veal of words.
Not afraid to show vulnerability.
Knowing there is strength in flaws.
An what better way to say.
What might not have been said at all?
Unless it was written in your own words.
Jan 2020 · 86
Untitled
Barry Jan 2020
Lost to this world.
Streets are full yet empty without you.
Days and nights grow longer, now  seeming to be as one
never-ending lost moment standing still in time.
Lost to this world without a home.
For my home was with you.
Dec 2019 · 168
Untitled
Barry Dec 2019
Crossing roads in time, just to stay a little longer.
Drifting off waking up no longer knowing day from night.
Still smiling still so strong.
Now just longing too be home.
Where it will be forever to rest.
Dec 2019 · 116
Untitled
Barry Dec 2019
Memories of you will always walk beside me.
Hand in hand they’ll keep you here with me.
When you leave it won’t be goodbye, for you’ll live on in my mind.
No matter how many years may pass.
I’ll keep the flame of your memories burning bright, until such time we meet again.
Sorry these are sad . They're for my mum. Writing is helping me at this time.
Dec 2019 · 175
Untitled
Barry Dec 2019
In this time we must be strong.
For a gentle heart that has done it time.
Yet holding on for every beat not yet ready to give in.
Sleeping now still waking at times.
Still smiling not knowing.
Just being till the time comes to say farewell .
Dec 2019 · 477
Untitled
Barry Dec 2019
I cried a tear
And then noticed it was clear that you were no longer there.
As this tear was left to stay .
Where you used to wipe it away .
No smile no words to say it’ll be alright.
Yet that’s ok you rest now in a painless sleep.
Knowing that you are loved .
And you’ll never be forgotten.
Dec 2019 · 131
Untitled
Barry Dec 2019
No cure for this day as the rust has already set in .
As time is already eating it away, even before we get to make our way.
No cure for this day and the next will be just the same.
No matter what we do the days will never last.
So we must take from them as much as we can.
Dec 2019 · 120
Untitled
Barry Dec 2019
Braking rules by being when I shouldn’t.
Not knowing how or why, just knowing I shouldn’t.
Should’ve gone but didn’t go.
With days and nights now being time stolen.
Yet not resting .
Happy to be breaking rules even just for more time.
Dec 2019 · 291
Untitled
Barry Dec 2019
Standing on the edge.
With ground beneath my feet behind me.
And yet nothing ahead.
Not sure what would become of me if I were to jump.
Letting go of the ground below, would I fly or fall.
For the future is never known .
Dec 2019 · 108
Broken Butterfly
Barry Dec 2019
Butterfly with broken wings, envious of
the setting sun able to rise again.
Through a shattered window seeing dreams
Now to far in the past to be anything.
Yet through this chrysalis of time, things may change.
Wings may mend.
And just as a Phoenix risers from its ashes.
So to might a broken butterfly fly again.
Nov 2019 · 167
A name
Barry Nov 2019
Likely to be we go unknown when we first arrive.
Only till we are given a name.
Then it is we are known to many before, we may even know ourselves.
For like a gift it is given, yet it's one that last a lifetime if not longer.
And yet a name is only a part of who we are.
The rest is what we make of ourselves.
Nov 2019 · 152
Weather
Barry Nov 2019
Weather and time are intertwined.
Like friends that have been together a long time.
Hand in hand bringing sun rain hail or snow.
As time can be so to weather can be good or bad.
And yet what ever it be wet or dry.
Just as time we will always need weather to keep things alive.
Oct 2019 · 117
Untitled
Barry Oct 2019
Looking beyond those eyes so deep.
And that smile so easily given.
To see the you in other ways.
You who makes my day just by being.
Not even by trying or doing, just by being.
Looking
to
see
what I could possibly mean to you.
Or
how
we
even
came to be you  and me.
Aug 2019 · 86
Untitled
Barry Aug 2019
Untangled in this midnight hour.
Still waiting on the sandman who hasn't yet come.
My dreams for the night yet to be seen.
Forgotten am I left to look upon the night sky with jealous eyes.
Knowing not of last nights sleep or the dream that might have been.
Instead I wait hoping to catch some sleep before the day is to start.
No longer  worrying about a dream.
Just  wanting the sleep that this restlessness has taken.
Jul 2019 · 153
What you leave behind
Barry Jul 2019
What you leave behind


Walking through the lines of a dead mans mind.
Reading from pages of what used to be alive.
Looking through the eyes of memories left behind.
Trying to peace things together again  

It's what you leave behind.
That lives on long after you're gone.
It's what you leave behind.
Right or wrong it's what you become.
What you leave behind.

Yeah the dead don't talk.
No secrets can they keep.
No lies can they tell.
When it's the living who tell of who they used to be.
And all that's left behind that's all that's left to see.

It's what you leave behind.
That lives on long after you're gone.
It's what you leave behind.
Right or wrong it's what you become.
What you leave behind

You can't rewrite what you've done.
No you can't take it back.
It becomes something all of its own.

It's what you leave behind.
That lives on long after you're gone.
It's what you leave behind.
Right or wrong it's what you become.
What you leave behind.

When it comes to the end
When they lay you to rest
All the things you've done still live on
As we walk through the lines of your mind
Reading from pages you've left through time
We'll see you through the eyes of memories you've left behind
When all is said and done laid to rest
What you leave you become

©Barry Andrews 24 July 2016
Thought Id shear one of my lyrics for a change.
Jul 2019 · 191
Untitled
Barry Jul 2019
Tangled up by that  of which can not be said.
Longing to let lose these thoughts  so too then can I be free.
O
n
l
y
there is this uncertainty that keeps them inside.
Yet there is a smile when you're near that you bring.
O
n
l
y
making me wish for some sort of sign.
That we are ment to be.
Jul 2019 · 95
Untitled
Barry Jul 2019
Lost for a moment .
Your eyes colliding with mine.
Stopping time in an instance.
Lost in the stillness of my mind unable to find the words.
Yet at the same time having no need of them.
Lost in a heartbeat knowing something to be true.
Yet not so lost for with you I'm home,
Jun 2019 · 247
Untitled
Barry Jun 2019
Enter this now.
And let it be a peace of history .
That somwhere someone  had given time to someone else.
Anb in return only to sèe them grow.
Leaving only a memory of  what could be.
Yet today we don't hear about enough of this.
For when did we as people leave our humanity behind?
So let it be in history it shouldn't be about just one.
Life is about everyone.
Nov 2018 · 140
Untitled
Barry Nov 2018
Glimpsing behind the curtain of reality,
to where the dreamers and believers live.
As if to be ageless to themselves living out their dreams.
While others have given up.
Or grown up leaving dreams behind.
And yet at times it may seem , that dreams may be out of reach.
Yet that doesn't mean we shouldn't try.
We just need to find the dream that fits.
Oct 2018 · 228
Untitled
Barry Oct 2018
Given this in which we have.
To do with as we must.
Not one to be of the same.
Yet to be in the same time.
Coming and going such as it happens.
Yet to live is to also be remembered.
Oct 2018 · 175
Untitled
Barry Oct 2018
Forged through falling then forcing oneself to stand.
Living by thoughts of better things ahead.
Taking everyday trails as they test,
and putting them to rest.
While learning lessons.
As learning is an everyday event.
Oct 2018 · 237
Untitled
Barry Oct 2018
Lead by those whose past have paved .
Reading from chapters of old.
W
h
i
l
e
wŕiting what is yet to be read.
Dearing to speak  in words, of a mind untamed .
And unwilling to be of anything but free.
A
n
d
So it is to know just who ones ownself is.
Oct 2018 · 106
Untitled
Barry Oct 2018
Standing where others would fall.
A life existing not living.
Left to late .
Hidden to long.
Now waking for the first time,
to look inside itself.
Finding broken can be fixed.
And that change can be the strength to improve .
If given a chance.
Oct 2018 · 111
Untitled
Barry Oct 2018
Lost in madness of an old mans ramblings.
As he unravels the time that once was his life of younger days .
Lost is he looking back ,
wanting to hold life firmly  with younger hands.
Not wanting to look forward with hands of old .
With life slowly slipping through the firm grasp that once was.
So take some time to listen.
Sep 2018 · 93
Untitled
Barry Sep 2018
Leave me one last look.
With a smile to light this life even if one last time.
Leave me with the rose I once gave.
Now just a reminder.
So leave me this morning.
Until tonight.
Sep 2018 · 129
Music
Barry Sep 2018
Music dulls the pain of a loney heart.
Longing through time standing yet without wanting to alone.
Filling space music giving meaning .
Whilst taking silence from  the air.
And distracting  a lonely mind  from itself.
Giving something to relate to.
Music is always there.
Sep 2018 · 166
Untitled
Barry Sep 2018
In the mist of trying to find some meaning .
Of the who or why I am?
As I ponder over how it is I came to be.
I also come to wonder about other things.
L
I
k
e
How did other things get their names.
Is a dog really a dog?
Who was really to say?
And
how did
we
get to where we are from nothing?
Where did we come from?
And where do we go?
And lost in the mist  of all of this .
I'm surely not the only one.
Sep 2018 · 173
Dear death
Barry Sep 2018
Dear death
I know we don't know each other yet.
Although some day when my life leaves  me.
I know you'll be a new friend to me.
And although you're not one thought of much.
I
Sometimes  wonder what lies ahead ?
After someone is found at your door.
What really goes on once you open your door?
Then
as you close it  behind someone who used to live on the other side
of it.
What is the secret that you hold?
The one we lie our lifes down for.
And yet as I think of this my friend to be .
Let me just say I'm not in a hurry to find out.
It's just that I had wrote to life and thought of you for
a
moment
as well.
Sep 2018 · 220
Dear life
Barry Sep 2018
Dear life
As I look from the outside.
Observing just for one moment.
As I  sometimes look for ways to escape the so called norm.
As you take me and change me one day after another.
With this friend you call time.
And as I write this letter unsigned.
I
wonder
Where you've gone so far?
And
where it is you are yet to take me?
For
what adventures are yet to unfold ?
And
yet do you ever stop to look at me ageing along the way?
And what will happen when I'm gone?
Will you remember me?
So I write to you life just to say,better get the best out of me.
Cause I'll be taking everything I can from you.
Sep 2018 · 560
Gentle winter wind
Barry Sep 2018
Gentle winter wind whispers through the window.
Tapping tree branches and rustling leaves along its way .
Like a child at play,
Sometimes picking things up and carrying them off along its way.
Like a thief  adding to its trove.
And yet lonely is it along its way?
And who would ever know where it goes?
As it slows down like an old man to take a rest.
The gentle winter wind now gone will return again.
Some days when winter is set upon us once more.
Sep 2018 · 128
Untitled
Barry Sep 2018
In to deep this mind now closed.
Resting eyes drowning slowly  in sleep.
Waiting for a dream at last.
Like  another life it comes .
One without the need to move .
And yet what are these tricks played on me by my own mind at night?
As it takes me away  without ever going anywhere.
And leting me do anything.
As it shows me thing I long to see or do.
As if it still somehow  knows the child I once was.
Where I always thought the world was my own.
Only too be forgotten by morning.
Where realty will find its way back.
And I will be back in the place it left me in.
Aug 2018 · 157
Left is me
Barry Aug 2018
Left is me the hand I use.
And yet there are many at the same time we are few.
For in this world out numbered by right.
And yet still we find our place.
Left is me and it is still said at sometimes.
Oh your left handed.
So let me just say to that  yes I am.
And there is no shame.
I am still human it just left suits me best.
Aug 2018 · 210
Sorry
Barry Aug 2018
Sorry to you if we never meet.
The one destiny choose to be.
If I am too blind to see.
Sorry  for the times we may never shear.
Sorry for the photographs we'll never take.
Or the laughs we'll never have over looking back.
Sorry for the empty space I'll leave in your life till destiny finds
you
another.
Sorry to you in all your time in need for not being there to pick you up.
For if I get lots and our paths never cross.
Sorry most of all for the times I'll never get to say
I love you.
Aug 2018 · 129
Dark horses (DRAFT)
Barry Aug 2018
Dark horses live as it would seem in the shadows.
Known only to them the talents they possess.
Till such  time they show their hands.
So modest are they coming from nowhere to steal the show.
Leaving no doubt the bar they set to be high.
And it seems to be in no matter what they do.
The dark horses are always the ones that are watched the most.
Aug 2018 · 125
Dark horses
Barry Aug 2018
Dark horses live as it would seem in the shadows.
Known only to them the talents they possess.
Till such  time they show their hands.
So modest are they coming from nowhere to steal the show.
Leaving no doubt the bar they set to be high.
And it seems to be in no matter what they do.
The dark horses are always the ones that are watched the most.
Aug 2018 · 542
Wrecked
Barry Aug 2018
Wrecked was this day.
Like a rag doll that once was a ballerina  now no longer able to dance.
With torn limbs lying still.
Only memories of days and nights dancing hours away.  
Yet never to be again.
Wrecked was this day
Like a train losing grip of the tracks beneath it.
Destin for destruction
T
i
l
I
it comes to a stop.
Enabling one to breath again.
Wrecked was this day.
One of which would be so easy or not to forget.
Glancing back at the grandness that wasn't.
As it held nothing.
And yet even in its wrecked state holding no regrets.
Still giving even if just its time.
As its time slips away.
Simply just being one of those days.
A thought for one of those days don't know why.
Jul 2018 · 157
The violin
Barry Jul 2018
A bow draws through the silence of the strings.
Awakening them to life from a silent slumber.
Sending shivers vibrating through the air.
Each note an entanglement of bow and string coming together, like strangers lost in each others gaze.
Then torn apart by what would be the battle field of yet another symphony.
Till so gracefully bringing bow and strings back together ending with the last note falling.
Bringing them peace as both are placed gently in a case.
The violin its strings and bow now rest together till the next symphony is to unfold.
Jun 2018 · 165
The last
Barry Jun 2018
Lying still unable to no longer move.
As a chill comes knowing this is the last.
The last look of this life a long look back.
The last time to see and to be seen.
The last tears to ever be shared.
And yet drawing in and holding on for one last goodbye my love.
The last breath then passes without life.
I don't know about this one  just came to mind.
Jun 2018 · 1.1k
The busker
Barry Jun 2018
The busker stands upon  a busy street.
With a guitar case laid out in front.
As the busker sings, while playing on guitar and heart strings.
Not asking just hoping passers-by will stay for a while. And maybe even place some change in the case.
And yet standing there while dreams and time drift by.
The busker  still waiting to be discovered.
Is yet happy just to be doing what that person enjoys  the most.
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