We Went To War

I never realised it wasn’t a game
Until she whispered I had won
Scars run deep from the battles lost
Scenes destroyed with what we’d done

We both knew this day was near
We both knew we’d end up broken
As we held our voices in our throats
The pressure tripped an explosion

The burgeoning empire we destroyed
This battlefield created desolation
Back where the grass grew green
Before an eruption tore more than relations

Now wars past and the cities rebuilt
Look at all we have to show for
Infrastructure and chiselled memories
Of a time when we once went to war

Tricolour

Do you have a favourite colour?

I have several, or none, I discovered

 

Red, is the love, the passion I hold

A hopeless romantic in everything I wrote

With a slight hint of danger integrated

Or could it purely be football related?

 

White, is the hope I don’t rely on much

I’m not the purest of souls to judge

I’m not sure what makes it a favourite

Maybe it’s half the colours of my nation?

 

Black, represents that darkness I lived

That hardship, I was forced to exist in

The death of innocence, the power attained

Or maybe the points in snooker relate?

 

I don’t really have a colour preference

But I have tricolour that I love to reference

 

Undercover

We lie undercovers
And hope the truth isn’t uncovered
Whilst we agree over the scent of fresh sheets
Your fiancé would be shocked to see
You dirty these bed sheets with me
My girlfriend would scream and shriek
If she saw you with me,

Let me send this text,
Then I’ll get back to pleasing you right
Before you look up at the spark in my eye
Tease me baby, stroke my ego
Enough to break her heart with a lethal dose
We love them both, but lust controls
Were suffocated, but you love to choke
Choke you out, throw you around
Hold it in your mouth then I’ll throw you out
Kiss me, goodbye, kiss them, Hi
Back to the reality of a normal life
Trying to shrug of the guilt of last night
Who does the cuckold life satisfy?

 

True Colours

Thoughts circling my mind
The only colour on this page is white
The grass is always greener
My side has a grey and black demeanour
I guess that’s why they call it the blues
Nobody I knew was born with a silver spoon
Golden opportunities aren’t handed to you
Trapped in the red what are you going to do?
With bank accounts emptied, green with envy
Caught red handed we don’t seem as friendly
You can keep on your rose tinted spectacles
Tickle yourself pink, at this working spectacle
This is a work in progress, save your protests
Judge me on the blue ink when my pen rests
Because our true colours, you can never compete with
We see red, we tell white lies, and we aren’t complete
So let me bring the colour to a grey area
We’re black sheep and you’re not fair on us

 

Thief

There’s a thief who lives inside of me
He used to try and get a bike for free
Now he’s out stealing all my dreams

He wasn’t interested in stealing your heart
So, put it all on me, for tearing us apart
But he stole all the time, I allowed to pass

He never wanted an ounce of my time
But he took the passion out of the rhyme
And made it a little more difficult to write

He stuck his fingers into my pocket
Helped himself to my self-esteem and lost it
As I silently swore my revenge upon him

There’s a thief who lives in side of me
Who took everything I aspire to be
But losing everything, inspired me

 

The Houses in Between

We could be living together
the girl next door, could have been mine
if we weren’t living apart
if miles never kept us stretched so wide
but if true love conquers all
why did we lose the fight?

The distance in between
stretched you from my heart
we dreamed a dream of schemes
but the love in the letters, wouldn’t last
if it wasn’t for the houses in between
we could have built that house of ours

 

Take Us Back

If one kiss could take us back
As the stage we play, fades to black
If we could stop the clock, defy the physics
Would we pause and rethink those decisions?
Would we listen, would we open our minds
Open our hearts and attain more from life?

Or would we stick by those regrets we made
As we sit under clouds, and let it rain
Would we change a thing, if we could repeat it?
Or are we foolish enough to reiterate it
If we were given a chance to correct our past
Would we prove we were just like us from the start?