Tag Archives: poem

My Only Friends

Standard

Yes, I’m still existing.
Beyond the consecrated hallway
Through the long corridor
Past the sacred candlestick
Inside the naked room
With Black Grapes.
Who lies stretched out
In a corner drunk
from his own thoughts
Which ARE, beyond repair.
Lying central in the room
My aching head held taut,
fighting paranoiac visions
screaming to be released.
They have locked us away
Because we don’t know enough
Of what they know
And we know too much
About what they don’t know.
And what they don’t know
No-one else should know.
The naked wall and Black Grapes
Are my only friends.
One speaks and one can be spoken to,
One answers and one doesn’t,
I cannot be sure in this room
Which is which.

 

You do the same

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It’s a falsehood to believe you have friends
They are only interested in their own lives
And you do the same!
They will only come at their convenience
And you do the same!
They will only speak about their interests
And you do the same!
They will only believe what their believe
And you do the same!
They may not even help when there is no other option
And you do the same!
Meaningless is the name of friendship.
There is no-one to trust but yourself.

In Your Circle

Standard

Yeah
Talk to YOUR ‘friends’
Make them feel good
Confirm what THEY say
Tune into THEIR wavelength
Love what THEY love

Listen to their DRIVEL
Simper as they nod
Laugh with THEM
Voice THEIR opinion
Love what THEY love

Do as THEY say
Smile when needed
Smirk in your turn
Lie when you’re told
Love what THEY love

If the wind could speak

Standard

If the wind could speak,
what would it say?
Perhaps,
when I whispered to you
as a gentle breeze
to alert your mind
to an oncoming occurrence.
You were too absorbed
in your abstract thoughts
to acquiesce me.

If the wind could speak,
what would it say?
Perhaps,
When I spoke to you
as a blustering gust
to warn you to take care.
You were too distracted
with other events
to spare a thought for me.

If the wind could speak,
What would it say?
Perhaps,
When I roared at you
As a galloping gale
beseeching you to listen.
You were too preoccupied
with disproportionate choices
to give acknowledgement to me.

If the wind could speak,
What would it say
Perhaps,
When I screamed at you
as a sustaining hurricane
begging you to hear.
You were too resolute
with your presumptions
to accept the consequences
were pertinent to me.