Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
You didn’t want anyone to get behind your eyes
Not anyone, not even me
You weren’t dishonest when you told me lies
They were to protect you from others’ unkindness
Their blindness, refusal to acknowledge your beauty,
Made you hide things you didn’t want me to see
I didn’t want you to go home
I knew they would all be waiting
But you, you’d be on your own
I knew you would go; you had such a sense of duty
Our eyes met, I never can forget
The misery reflected in their depths
Forgive me love; I do not have your humanity
All I can see is others treating you badly
It makes me so angry so I tell you this is insanity
Sadly there is nothing I can do
But to go on loving you
And hope that will be enough to get you through
by Sheila Haskins

Everyone should meet a tree
In a faery forest glade
In sunshine and in shade
 Everyone should meet a tree
Trees with spreading roots
Their branches green with shoots
Everyone can get to know a tree
In each and every season,
You don’t need a reason
Tree life brings balance, harmony
Take a trip, a forest ramble
Deep within the woodland green
Hug a tree with healing powers
Passing  peaceful hours,
Revelling in the history
Everyone should meet a tree
Colours bleeding down the years
Grey clouds raining with the fears
Impatient youth slowing down
Something lost, something found
Clock ticks, mirror betrays
The final passing of the days
A few months adding up to older
Fire burns as wind blows colder
Then comes the last enduring heat
Warmth of ashes, air is sweet
A place to lay a weary head
The comfort of a cosy bed
Reluctantly, acceptance grows
No need to worry or to ponder
The secrets of the wild blue yonder
The air is fragrant with the scent
Of borrowed time, memory spent
I’m not what you wanted but I am what you get
I dance in the rain and my knickers get wet
I wear lots of rings, holey tights, gaudy things
I haven’t much schooling; I don’t give a jot
I know all of Earth’s creatures; I love them a lot
I don’t tire of giving; you can take my last penny
Even if it means I am left without any

I can’t be tied, my feet start to itch
They say I’m a changeling, I say I’m a witch
I left home to be courting the Lord of the Green
Making my hay when the summer was keen
I sleep in the barn, when the winter draws nigh
I ride and I glory in freezing cold snow
I’ll tell you my story if you want to know

The skies are so blue, except when they’re grey
That’s lucky too; it’s a beautiful day
When the moon is a finger gilding the soil
You’ll find I may linger in love for a while
I’m a ship in the night, passing you by
I want you to know me, to understand why
I’m a leaf on the breeze, a whisper, a sigh

I am the envy of all that I see
I am the blossom that flies from the tree
Singing in summer, dancing in snow
I’m not what you wanted, but I want you to know
Tho’ I wear lots of rings, holey tights, gaudy things
If you hear my voice as you weave and you spin
I am you in your glory; let me come in
You are me and our story’s
About to begin
There’s a ghost on the wander
A ghost in the town
There’s a ghost in the mix
A ghost in the ground
A ghost in a shadow
Something that can’t be seen
There’s a ghost on the prowl
There’s a ghost in the machine

It’s true about the pictures
That fall down off the wall
You can hear the footsteps
Up and down the hall
No-one ever catches it
Or learns the history
No-one will believe you
There’s a ghost
That they can’t see

You know this ghost is living
With a past and future too
This ghost it keeps on breathing
Just like me and you
Sometimes you think its singing
A rhapsody in blue
There’s a ghost on the prowl
Watching everything you do

Well this ghost it’s been growing
Growing up with you and me
It started as a little child
No-one could really see
It turned into a grownup
And got lost inside a dream
There’s a ghost on the prowl
There’s a ghost in the machine
She cleans until every surface gleams
Cleans and cleans to remove life’s grime
Just one more time will do it
One more time and she will be through it
No leaks no spillages allowed to remain
No signs of decay; life’s easier that way
She keeps on cleaning every day
As the dirt disappears so do the years
Until the next time she looks in the mirror
Sees the woman she has become
She can’t dust the lines away, the mirror never lies,
It reflects the story of her stolen youth
So she exfoliates, scrubs, buys cosmetics
The face she is left with she’s learnt to despise
Her hair is the colour of despair; grey, hardly there
To get out of her head she cleans instead
Cleans until every surface shines, safe in this sterile world
Outside rain is falling like tears, obliterating her reflection
Inside the house is a palace, fit for inspection
She cleans just once more, believing doubts will go away
Tomorrow today’s fears will be returning
So she keeps on cleaning, keeps on dreaming
Ready to battle another weary day
This sad poem is not about a real person but a reflection on the many people who suffer from OCD, especially in these dark days. People look for different ways to deal with stress and poor self image this is just one possible way.
Mr Life
I’ve got plans
Things to do
Things to see
Don’t want to be
An also ran
I’m depressed
Getting stressed
Because of you
You get in the way
Each and every day
I reach up to the skies
But it comes as no surprise
When I come tumbling down
And as I hit the ground
There you are you rascal you
No wonder I feel blue
If you want trouble and strife
Why don’t you get yourself a wife?
Mr Life
Next page