So much suffering

I cry everyday, I’m a weak pathetic man

I am hurt by life and the horror I am

tragedy follows my heart it will not go

I cry for them all they never know

the sad little boy who dies without care

a family loses a son, lay stabbed and bare

a young girl dies from bulimia her fullness is empty

Anorexia nervosa a starving disease barely seen

foreigners I hear them scream

take our jobs and everything 

then I read a story of a lady that weeps

sworn at and cursed by abuse, she never sleeps

another boat person running from fear

to enter the uk how they vary dare

to want to live and care

children suffering cancer is rife

lovely man for 60 years loses his wife

still the rich can afford to laugh

a homeless family cannot have a bath

I’m still this pathetic weakened man

should toughen up is what they say

real men don’t show themselves like you do

so desperate in the loneliness I feel

not understood by anyone still

I will cry because that’s what I must

while others walk on without a single fuss

I know this world is not what I feel

when there is so much suffering everywhere still

My Song

I travelled the world, far and long

through towns and plains singing my song

I never knew where I could rest

to write down thoughts of my digress

the battle fought was a war too long

words that were written to end my song

passions kiss in a loves embrace

satin cloth trimmed with lace

peace was shattered by a broken sound

of running water flowing on the ground

a river close had burst its bank

fish lie dying and a boat had sank

the small craft had gone but urgency calls

save the fish was my very first thought 

if I hadn’t done so then my life was worth nought

carrying it down the river to Perrotts Brook

then lowered it in, slipping forward from my grasp 

I placed it down then released its rasp

it fell and floated in a side kind of sway

then waking gradually it swam away

my song ended as it had once began

on and on every single day

to tell of life, its many twists that get in the way

no doubt it will end quite quickly one of these days

Family & Friends

Two together in an empty house 

avoiding getting in the way of one another 

family and children in the same house 

confusion all around, battles of sound

a cosy quiet corner can always be found  

the gathering of warmth and love 

sharing a wild hysterial ground

when alone again loneliness around

avoiding the others space with no music

Love until May

The heart to give away, love deeply in any way

happiness along with peace, everything you say 

caring for others all around, just spread the joy everyday

passionate caress for June until May

Life’s simulation

I have two minutes to say all I want

two minutes to say what is long

not much time when I am not feeling strong

So much to write, oh my mind has gone

all I can think of is ‘fuck’, I am falling 

though; today is the day, my memory is found

to turn my ridiculous life around

a battery in my hearing aid for sound

damn I crashed the plane on the ground

that’s what happens in a simulator

Tragic Agenda

Away in the wind when the storm blows

distance the sounds of a horns crow

Bagpipes are feint; sing about a saint

mama passes over afore a long ole wait

the big ‘C’ burdens thee, is it time? possibly

striving to come, agony to go, confusion maybe

would you wallow in shame or weep

go in peaceful friends as sheep

A ship sails the troubled way across the sea

to a land bewitched with sinful peasantry

enjoyment in a find the strange noise sounds

chants of calling to pray on the mound

beautiful flags of hatred hanging

St George the foreign Prince a dangling

England became a place of hell

viciousness under a racist smell

Tonight eating a curry from my Indian friend

tomorrow a Chinese restaurant sends

a pizza flops meaty mozzarella cheese 

amazingly tasty, send some more please

Sting in the tail of a locust

poisonous death from a snake

no - only one way to warm a glove

a hand of warmth and filled with love. 

The Broken Horse

Barbed wire namely life shredding skin 

the once upon a time you were  

irrevantly perturbed in guilt ridden sin 

the little child growing in time long  

ages to grow, fed lies which maketh one strong 

then; eventually destructive force hits  

truth hits hard as a horse with a bit 

all hurt, pain, destructive force 

catches up energy, dies of course 

accepting it is as it is with remorse 

existence as a broken horse.