Adventures

It was all an adventure.
  one that never seemed to end
We were the young, adventurous
  never thought we’d see the end
We were kids, a moment ago
  now, the adults you’ve come to know
Although your seeds have grown
  we don't know what direction to go
We still screw up but it’s costlier now
  the question is, what does it cost now?

Being grounded, felt like hell
   now, there’s a real threats of prison cells
I still look at these photographs of then
   we were smaller when we were ten
Our mistakes then, smaller than we were
   but they still labelled as wayward
With age, we found a new perspective
   from a school prospectus to job prospectives
We should have paid attention in lectures
   but we were caught up youthful adventures
Advertisements

City Noise

These headphones drown out the city noise
These lyrics can’t help but give me a voice
Melodies hold memories I cherish deeply
And the pen I keep, brings them alive for me

A love affair, it’s a woman singing to me
Numerous art forms combine creatively
Break us down, but rebuild our strength
Coping mechanism found in a wavelength

A part of us, like a relation as such
We relate to the songs that made us love
Made us hate, and unleash all we pent up
Weakness stuck and made us take it up

Now we make it up, we control the music
We set the tone, the next generations influences
We can take arms up over those who harm us
We can promote peace and fight the unjust

Represent the unloved, live for the unlucky
Remember the public, listen to the our words, corruptly
Until you’re screaming, “Please don’t corrupt me
I just want you to love me, now the quality disgusts me

The power is # your words, so it’s in your hands
Take out your pen and take it to the man
Speak for the people, defeating the evil
Until we sleep peacefully with no need for deceitful

You are the voice of a generation, write a lyric
Let your melody speak for everyone to relive it
Don’t get caught up in a publicity ploy
Because it’s your words they hear over that city noise

 

A Poet Is Born

I love writing, the freedom it encompasses
an outlet for anger, the emotions it manages
the depression it overcomes, the smile it provides
the priceless gift, as the anguish subsides

I hate writing, the stress it emphasises
the anger raging on, the emotion I fight with
the depression sets, smiles become rare
the endless curse, and the joy hidden there

A full mind hidden in an empty page
a pen driven to extinction by an endless gaze
finding sentences to match, lost in search
lost time filled with fulfilment, found in words

Words come together, a sentence forms
a sentence turns into a statement formed
as love nurtures, a statements growth
and a poet is born as the poetry evolves

How to Write

Step one, experience pain
Go through something words can’t explain
Cry, dry your eyes, and then cry a little more
Broken stories, allow a pen to scribble yours

Step two, hide it
Under a mattress, in a wardrobe, somewhere they won't find it
Deny it, like you deny the way you feel inside
Hide the words that flow like rivers from your eyes

Step three, reveal yourself
Tell the world how much you want to kill yourself
Let the pain flow, with every word you wrote
Expose every emotion by placing out there for show

Step four, get rejected
Nothing to show for the years of pain ingested
But keep going pushing on regardless
Document everything as you experience hardship

Step five, let the words bring alive your life
Let the pen give you strength and with all your mite
Write the words that dry the eyes of those who cry
Let your emotion change there's, and that's how you write

Empty Page

I’ve felt the cut from broken love
kept warm with frozen blood
shut off, refused to open-up
but nothing ever hurt as much
as an empty page.

I’ve been kicked and hit
rejected and labelled a misfit
nobody around to kick it with
but loneliness didn’t exist
until an empty page.

I couldn’t feel my heart beat
try and feel the pulse on my sleeve
woeful, how hard it must be to be me
until I painted colour onto this sheet
and filled the page.