Walk out; walk in,
into my restless life:
a lie
a waiting
a lie…
Waiting for you; lying about me.
Let you in;
let me out.
I want to shout!
Hold me close;
hold me far.
I might not die tonight.
Be with me –
complete me.
It’s cold out here
where love don’t shine.
Give me a reason,
stay for a while.
Give me your shirt –
let me inhale your fumes.
It feels so right!
This can’t be wrong.
“Why do you
do so much for
the Blossom-tree?”
“Much? Hardly so!”
“But I’ve seen you at it
day and night;
at the call of the roots of
the Blossom-tree!”
“The Blossom-tree
has taught me much,
I owe it ten-fold its lessons.”
“It seems like all it does is take,
take up your nutrients
and gulp your precious water-hours.”
“I do not see it as so…
For when a tree as beautiful as
the Blossom-tree
is planted in a field near,
it is a blessing, a rare-blessing
only afforded to few in this
brief life-breath.”
“Be careful, I say!
Snakes love the trees of beauty.”
“Being bitten is worth
the blossom-beauty.”
“Don’t let it take on constant-occasions!”
“It is not an act of taking
so much as
the blossom-tree
giving to me in memories
of beauty and
sweet fragrances of life.”
he cares from the shadows –
unknown to his Love.
watching and supporting;
protecting and planning.
sunken into the darkness:
outside looking In.
never a day without thoughts
filled with love and compassion
for the One.
unknown to his Love…
he sometimes allows himself
the guilty pleasure
of thinking about being discovered
and being
loved
by his One.
but,
unknown to his Love,
he feels the torment and pain
of being unknown in a knowable world.
his only comfort is knowing, though,
that his One is living happier than before.
and this is his only mission:
to love a Love although unknown.
Red-cloaked and black-shoed:
It strolls nimbly into life…
Not a care but to cause…
Emotionless and cruel;
Hard and cold.
Streaks of blood seep
Slowly out of deep wounds
And crimson tears carve a neat path
Downward lonely cheeks.
It envelopes the insides,
Wrapping itself tightly around
The organ that beats against the force and
Gives life while being given death.
Untouchable, undiagnosable.
Cruel. Cunning.
Sharp-shooting. Deep-wounding.
Full of itself.
So what if I trip and
fall face first into failure?
So what if they laugh as I struggle?
So what if I make mistakes
and do stupid things?
So what if I live on the edge?
So what if you judge me?
So what if I damage myself?
So what if I don’t have your support?
So what if you all leave my side?
So what if I lose it all?
So what if I end up with no one?
So what if I’m the failure everyone least expected?
So what if I fall
from the throne I’ve placed my reputation on?
So what if I let go?
So what if I go wild like they said?
So what if I stuff it all up?
So what?
He hid from his problems
In a bottle of vodka.
And found relief at the bottom
Of tequila shots.
Sadly he woke up
With all his problems
Plus one.
They stole his money;
Vandalised his life;
Tore his clothing;
And spat on his honey.
But they couldn’t touch his soul,
They couldn’t touch his soul.
We judge him for he is not one of us!
We mock him for his mind –
He’s actually rare to find.
A raw passion of a child
Trapped in adult form.
Why do we mock him for being him?
Yet preach peace and equality?
What happened to our reflective mirrors?
Did they burn in our hypocrite flames?
Maybe he’s free;
Maybe we’re the ones who cannot see.
Just, just let him
BE.
We admire you, man
for you stood with us as one;
not above: just one.
Irish blood of strength
running through his sad-mad veins:
Genetic Soldier.
Defender of views,
not a slave to the norms which
fill our ears and screens.
He knows death too well,
yet still he remains fearless
as death is freedom.
Mr Individualist 