Internet People

I often find myself thinking
About people on the net
And how there’s some I adore
Even though we’ve never met.

I imagine how they’d sound
Their voice I want to hear
They live so far away
But it’s like they’re near

I get to talk to such wonders
They are just perfection
But it’s all online
Which adds to my frustration

These internet people
Who I simply love
I want to meet them so much
But, for now, I am void of.

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Positivity

I know you don’t feel gladness
Dealing with people of dreadful madness
And you’re stuck fighting the badness
But keep marching through the sadness.

Because the World’s actually a pretty cool place
But like everything, it has more than one face
Just stop running through it like it’s a race
There’s no rush to finish, set your own pace

And then you’ll finally be able to see
Through the veil that conceals the World’s true beauty
The veil of hatred that hides what your life could be
Rip it from your vision and you will live peacefully

Because let me tell you, happiness is addictive
That’s why it’s okay to cut away the negative
And search for those that make you feel positive
But you’ve gotta put the work in, be more active.

I know you don’t feel gladness
Dealing with people of dreadful madness
And you’re stuck, fighting the badness
But just…just keep marching through the sadness

…Stay Positive.

A Whirlwind of Emotions…

I wasn’t planning this post but one of my friends posted a tweet that included the words, “a whirlwind of emotions” and all of a sudden my hands went mad and I wrote this in 5 minutes.
Hope you enjoy.

A whirlwind of emotions,
That control every notion,
As you’re just going through the motions
Wishing you had a potion,

Just to take it all away,
But hey,
I guess that’s just the way,
That things have to stay.

So you just go,
And you don’t know,
Who to leave and who to follow,
Uncertain about tomorrow,

But I guess we’ll see,
Undoubtedly,
How things are gonna be,
Holding a lock with no key.

A key to your dreams,
And it seems,
That there are no teams,
But the sun still beams,

Giving you hope,
Helping you cope,
So you don’t sit and mope,
And you look at hate and say, “Nope”

I’m done with you,
And all you put me through,
So, here’s what I’m gonna do,
Put my middle finger up and say, “Fuck you”

I Write Again…

I select my weapon of choice
My ball pointed friend, my inky voice
My opinions, emotions, thoughts in my mind
The tool that expresses them and helps me unwind.

It’s strange, it really does help me
Putting things on paper, helps me to see
That perhaps, everything isn’t so bad
And maybe it’s a waste, always being sad.

I’d like to do this more often but life gets in the way
Over thinking things doesn’t help, it kinda ruins the day
However my mind is forever racing, it can’t keep still
It drives me insane and I think it forever will.

So why do I write these things again, if it makes me depressed?
Perhaps because writing is a gift of which I feel blessed
But maybe it’s just because I need some form of hope
And writing all this, is just how I cope.

Date of writing: 18/07/2013, 03:03AM

National Poetry Day: Running

This is the final poem I’ll be posting today, I hope you’ve enjoyed them and I thank you for reading and feel free to leave any feedback. Thank you.

Humans, as a whole, are quite a cowardly lot
We spend our lives running away
Trying to escape the ending to the plot.

Is it instinct from evolution? Or from that of a higher power?
Whatever the cause of our fear
I refuse to live my life simply to cower.

A life fearing death, is no life at all
Why run, when you can look it in the eye?
Face death proudly…And stand tall.

National Poetry Day: From The First Love

A bit of context for this one is needed. This is a poem I wrote during my short time at college, it was a task set by my English lecturer and it’s a reply to the poem ‘First Love’ by John Clare. His is a wonderful poem and I recommend you read it. Anyway, here is the inferior reply to a much superior poem.

I look, he’s there
I turn, a stare
A stare that pierces my very soul
His name? It’s John!
I blink, he’s gone
But his shadow lingers, dark as coal

I walk, I see
A rose, for me?
It has been left there for me to meet
It began, a seed
The thorns, I bleed
And yet, the sentiment is so sweet

I wander, alone
This rose, my own
The flower he left, only for me
He’s waited, a while
He’s red, I smile
It’s true love he feels, and now, I see.