I wonder if it’s madness,
the way I see the world.
Scheming susurrations, 
induce alone, trapped and unsure.

They tease me with their cackles,
it sinks in to the bone.
Hapless, hopeless,
split-minded, needy fool.

This social stigmatisation,
haunts me every day.
Heavy-hearted,
as the paranoia takes control.

I feel all eyes on me,
when no-one watches at all.
Irrelevant individual,
trapped by fears irrational. 

A trickle of my sanity,
deserts me every day,
worn away by how we live,
which makes no sense to me.

But everyday I ponder,
“Is it me that’s gone insane?”
When I’m the one in many,
who sees the things they try to hide.

Their creative accountancy,
doesn’t fool my eyes,
because my eyes, they see morality
and the politicians’ isn’t quite right. 

So open yours and help me,
unless you’re too afraid,
to help create a country,
free from oppressive glares. 

Oppression forces down on me,
in this cube of uniform.
Men with free will walk right past,
unaware that they are slaves.
Held by false ambition,
they all strive for the same.
No difference betwixt them,
to search would be in vain.
What job, what house, what car,
are the choices that they see.
I’m not satisfied with this.
I want more, to be free.
 

They hold us hostage,
because we consent,
to a pack of wolves,
sent from hell, Bent. 

Bent like a faggot,
and bent like a snake.
Selling dreams,
dreaming of a one world state.

But the state that I’m left in is one of confusion.
We give them power, instead of retribution.
I hear you all moan, why don’t you rise up then?
Take back the power you gave, and use it against them!

Don’t play in their courts, live by your own rules. 
Remember that the power they use, is actually all yours.
When the legislation they use makes you feel sore,
Saw through their neck, and slice through their vocal chords. 

Cut off their lines of communication,
reveal their lies and deceit to the nation.
Go to the seat of their power, and chop it to firewood,
use it to burn them at the stake, because we all know they’re no good.
No good for you, and no good for me,
a bunch of fat cats, with insatiable greed.
A thirst for power, and a penchant for order.

Well I order them, to make reparation,
take responsibility for bankrupting our nation.
To stop blaming it on you and your peers,
when it is so clear to me,
a half-intellectual at the age of eighteen,
who can see straight through their capitalistic regime,
the people are not in fact the problem,
in fact they are the only solution,
because the people alone have the power,
to incite revolution. 

Who is it that I am,
deep deep down inside?
If I delve the deepest,
I am scared of what I’ll find.

What is it that paralyzes,
keeps me inanimate?
A stuttering liche-like man,
dark soul, deceiving face.

When will I unearth it,
stop whatever’s in control?
Release myself from purgatory,
regain my rationale.

Where has my confidence gone,
my charm and my élan?
I feel so lost and lonely,
when I’m meant to be a man.

Why is all I have left.
Why is all this so?
Why can’t I answer these things?
Why can’t I let it go?
Why can’t I understand it?
Why can’t I make it right?
Why can’t I open up,
except to a pad, at night?

Sometimes it’s far more
painless, to let it fall away.
Unrealised potential
not for me to taste.

Forbidden fruit is so for a
reason, to save us from demise.
A perfect example
with ensnaring eyes.

Myriad delights surround
me, may as well be made of ash.
Diassatisfying relief,
for my lovesick brain.

I want those velvet
lips, to run along my chest.
Wholesome satisfaction,
to take my blues away.

To exorsise my
demons, I have to let it go.
Excruciating torment,
brought to loveless end.

You can be sitting on the threshold,
looking like a mess, or
pick a fight with prejudice,
aiming for forgiveness.
Doubtful ways to find salvation,
caught in valleys of deception.

Tripping over moral conscience,
desperate not to look unconcerned,
fighting to portray good intentions,
on a world which dies day by day.
Considering the current situation,
with no thought for the fate of our nation.

A shattered coalition is what dictates the plans,
the future of a civilisation in the hands
of two good but ultimately incompetent men.
It’s a dark consideration to ponder,
but this state of affairs makes me wonder,
when will those with power get it right.

I sit in silence and I wonder,
what on this earth I should do.
My brain cries out with madness,
because I think I can’t have you.

I worry that you’ll spurn me,
so my lips stay sewn up tight.
But the unbearable not knowing,
it drives me crazy every night.

I’ve faced some harsh adversity,
and plenty of mental strife.
I see you as a stabliser,
in this whirlwind known as life.

But no matter if I want you,
or need you I should say.
My courage is too waning,
to ask so I just pray.

Pray for you to show me,
the error of my ways.
To take my hand and kiss me,
to end this indecisive haze.

A six verse heartfelt poem,
lays out how I feel about you.
Lays my soul bare on paper,
yearning for intertwining of our souls.

A girl is a wonderous thing,
obsessed with clothes and staying thin.
Full of confidence at start of day,
by sunset it will fade away.
Dusk is the most dangerous part,
when She’s relying on Her heart.
Afternoon is when She cogitates,
when men are usually far away.
But evening is when She gets obscure,
leant longingly inside your door.
Her curves and looks accentuate,
and cause all second thoughts to regurgitate.
You take her in to open arms,
and Her fidelity is at your command.
Both raptured, write and moan ‘til end,
the Mysoginist has struck again.
She thinks She’s won a perfect prize,
He thinks one weekend sounds about right.
She’ll write and moan this time in hate,
Her assumptions led her to act primate.
His thoughts did not arrive at all,
never languish on a males door.
It will lead to wounds filled with salt,
it will be your own self-indulgent fault.

Stifled youthful ambition,
drowned in an ensaring haze.
Clarity saw the guillotine,
whilst justice waned with parasitic hate.

Now just sorrow remains,
as I remember the hurtless days.
When loyalty was more than a word,
a bond ‘til death doth part.

All there is, suffocating sterility of my mind,
rusting ‘cus I use it little.
I’m a sillhouette in the sun,
cloaked in the shadow of this unrelenting high.

I stand in puzzled wonder,
at my infuriating ignorence.
Reaching out with fire,
letting those above know their power comes from below.

Help was never offered,
just outer retribution,
which I turned to inner intervention,
to enhance my healthy living.