One of my earlia poems.

I cant see.

I cant see why I have all this trouble in my life.
Why must I have all this strife?
I dont see what I have done to deserve this, all this shit just takes the piss!
Am I such a bad person?
Did I do something wrong?
Maby being 14 and wearing a thong and being fucked up for so long.
For now my life is in tatters.
Lots of unresolved family matters.
Every man that gets close to me scatters.
Every dream wish I have or make shatters.
For a little man with blonde hair and a tan, he can do a lot of damage to ones mind.
Maby he came at the wrong time, then again I made that choice and now he is mine, an angel in disguise he must be a sighn that people like me can be happy.
Im not a bad apple fallen under a tree in time maby Ill see that Oliver is a key to a door leading any where I desire and maby not a raging fire a car on a moterway for hire.
I dont know where that moterway will take me, maby Ill just sit think and have a cup of tea.
So there it is one of my earlie poems I love the way my writing takes me on a journey from sad and angry too somehow allieviated from my anger and upset.


Now my next poem is somewhat of a much deeper subject.
Its about my mum who has brain tumors and is currently quite ill.
I wrote this poem when I was coming to terms with the fact that my mum was not going to be the same person as she went from able bodied to vegative.

A poem about my mum.

I could think of a thousand words to describe how I feel but never would they take away the cold winters chill that was caused by a very much loved person taken ill.
Every country,nation and city standing still.
The question in our hearts.
Is this for real?
For this heart is a forbidden reality, you never think that life with out your mum will become a formality.
So close yet so far should have gone in a car.
Lots of people to blame, our lives will never be the same!

The best times.

This is a poem about when I was slightly dependent on certain things.

The best times.

The best times for me was when I was knumb, for them few hours just thinking bout number one cos two three and four did not matter cos two had already made my heart shatter.
How I loved to just exist and not have to put any effort in.
Not ever worry about the amount of sin.
To be totally wasted and free is how I always loved to be because in that world of impullsiveness and bad desisions nothing matters.
The conversation would flow and the drinks kept getting poured and the more I sliped into my world pure happy lonleyness, the only world for me.
For thinking of this world right now at this momment makes my heart beat. One trip to the pub/ off licence and Im back there again unsafe, lonely world my serenity.
There is an everlasting need to go back and viset this world again .
Goodbye world,goodbye lonely happiness I thought my visets to you would never end.
How I long to viset you again some day.

Now I bet reading this you would think Im some sad middle age alcoholic but truth is Im just a new product of society.

First off I should say Im not really good at this kind of thing I found it really hard to set this up.

My use of grammer is not great and this computer tells me im spelling everthing wrong (well I probably am ........

I dont know bout others but poems just seem to pop in my head all the time I could be doing the washing up or walking down the street and I just have these endless ideas!

Here comes an idea ................. To be addicted starts when you get the first taste.

Then forever more your life is a waste, a mere blur in the eye of a child you once were.

What is it now you prefer? rags? Or a coat that is fur? No longer they call you madam,no longer they call you sir your name is lieing in the contence left in the bottle.

You ask yourself Oh how did this occur?