The Knife

The knife,
A symbol of many things,
Of betrayal, of lack of trust,
Of relief, of respite,
Of pain, of never-ending pain.

It's a cliché,
You've stabbed me in the back,
It's an escape,
Used to get away from life,
It causes heartbreaking pain,
Pain for the person using it,
And for the person's family.

The knife,
It's silver, sharp and dangerous,
All it does is cause hurt,
Everything it's associated with,
Causes someone unbearable pain...

The knife,
The ultimate source of suffering,
The ultimate cause of misery.

The Final Judgement

Everything we do in this life,
Will be judged in the afterlife,
The actions we choose to take now,
Shall be accounted for in the sky.
The actions I have chosen to take,
Are a mixture of good and bad,
Unfortunately for me,
The bad far outweighs the good.
In recent times I have tried to change,
But I know myself that it's all fake,
The evil person inside of me lives on still,
A clever opportunist,
He appears from nowhere time-to-time,
And makes me hate myself.
I can't make him shoulder all the blame though,
I am at fault for allowing him to control my actions,
And for allowing my weakness to get the better of me.
The actions I have taken in my life,
Mean that, when the time comes to hand in the final CV,
It will be looked on with disgust,
Before being tossed into the fires of hell,
Along with myself.

The Fifth Province

Pressure mounting,
The fool with the tools,
Is constantly putting me down,
It's times like this,
That I like to go to my sanctuary,
Known to me as,
The Fifth Province.

Not quite Leinster,
Not quite Munster,
Not quite Connacht,
And not quite Ulster,
But a perfect piece of each,
Moulded together to create,
The Fifth Province.

It's so peaceful there,
No pressure at all,
As there's no one there,
To put the pressure on,
Just me and my thoughts,
Alone together,
In the Fifth Province.

Not quite Leinster,
Not quite Munster,
Not quite Connacht,
And not quite Ulster,
But a perfect piece of each,
Moulded together to create,
The Fifth Province.

Sometimes I escape there,
When I'm angry or sad,
And sit alone in silent solitude,
To gather together my thoughts,
So I can channel them onto a page,
Ignorance is bliss,
In the Fifth Province.

Not quite Leinster,
Not quite Munster,
Not quite Connacht,
And not quite Ulster,
But a perfect piece of each,
Moulded together to create,
The Fifth Province.

I'd show it to you if I could,
But it's visible only to me,
You have to discover it yourself,
Although most never do,
As only a rare few,
Experience the reconciling and the healing,
Provided by the Fifth Province...

Not quite Leinster,
Not quite Munster,
Not quite Connacht,
And not quite Ulster,
But a perfect piece of each,
Moulded together to create,
The Fifth Province.

The End of an Era

The graduation is finished,
Secondary school is over,
The class have all hit the bottle,
Celebrating the end of their sentence,
But I am not happy,
That my term is over,
As I now fear
That the security blanket school provided
Has been ripped from my grasp
All too prematurely.
My age suggests I'm ready to leave,
But mentally I don't feel ready at all,
I'll miss the routine that school gave to me,
I'll miss the help that the teachers offered,
I'll miss the students of all the other years,
But, most of all,
I'll miss the friendships that have been formed.
Even though they seem all too rare,
The ones that have been made,
Are very special to me,
And I am really upset now,
As I know I won't see the majority of my class,
Ever again,
Although I know that this sadness,
Is only shared by a rare few...

For me,
It is the end of an era,
But now I am wondering,
Could it be the beginning of a new one?

The Black Hole

The black hole,
Sucking and pulling,
Trying to drag me down,
Into vast and endless darkness,
Into oblivion.
Nothing is going right,
And everything I try,
To make things work,
Just makes the hole bigger,
And makes it more likely,
That I should fall into it,
And drown in a giant black wave,
Of my own sorrows.

Teardrop

Oh teardrop,
You won't stop,
Your happiness,
Is also your sadness,
You're beautiful,
As well as pitiful,
The reason you're there,
Is because someone near,
Has passed away,
Taking light from the day,
Bringing darkness,
To your host's existence,
But you accentuate her elegance,
Even though she's in deep disturbance,
You manage to keep grace,
On her pain stricken face...

Oh teardrop,
You won't stop,
You are the essence of beauty,
Yet you exist because of tragedy.

Taking the Chance

I wish I could tell you everything,
So I could try and make you mine,
But will it really mean anything,
Is it worth putting our friendship on the line?

Things have changed since I first met you,
My feelings have grown and blossomed,
I wonder if your feelings have changed too,
Or if they remain unchanged, down there, at the bottom.

I really want you to notice me,
To see how quick my heart beats when I see you,
I really want you to be with me,
To be the one who turns and smiles, while saying "I do".

Now I need the courage to ask you out,
To find out how you truly feel,
Yet in my mind is a flicker of doubt,
Causing my stomach to turn, as if I was on a Ferris Wheel.

Part of me knows your feelings already,
It knows that we are friends and nothing more,
Yet, with you, I want to take it more than steady,
Putting our friendship at risk forevermore.

I take a deep breath and ask the question,
Your eyes meet mine, you wear a blank, blank, expression,
I have caused an uncomfortable situation,
One that causes me despairing depression.

You shake your head and apologise,
Staying friends is all you want to be,
You wipe the tears away from my eyes,
While saying there are plenty more fish in the sea...

My heart is broken, there are no more fish like you,
Hard to believe, as, once, you were only a mere acquaintance,
But now I'll never find another I want more to say "I do",
Because you are the absolute essence of elegance.

Silence

What is a friend?
Please, explain?
You can't?
I'll tell you about my friend so,
The one person that can't possibly betray me,
His name is Silence,
And the reason he can't betray me is
Because he can't talk,
How ironic,
Because, if he could talk,
I reckon he would betray me,
Since I don't exactly treat him well,
Just like the rest of my friends,
I regret that very much.

Brown Eyes

Those big brown eyes stare into my blue ones,
Twinkling and glistening,
Joy and delight are what I see,
Reflected back at me,
Like a form of overwhelming happiness.

I could lose myself in those big brown eyes,
And allow myself to become entwined amongst that joy,
As it seems to me,
That the dancing light in your eyes,
Has been caused by the sight of my blue ones.

A long time it has been,
Since our paths last crossed,
But I am so happy that they have once more,
As I get tremendous pleasure,
From gazing into those big brown eyes...

While knowing that you gaze into my blue ones,
With equal pleasure and happiness.

(at the time if writing - which was around June 2007, if memory serves - this seemed like a really nice poem to give to somebody who would never actually receive it, and the funny thing is, as I realised soon after, they didn't even have brown eyes).

Personality Puzzle

Conniving, sneaky, clever, cute,
Choose any word here,
And it would describe you in a nutshell,
Times have changed,
Clearly so have you,
In the worst possible way.

You are no longer a single entity,
You are now three or four different entities,
Each completely different to each other,
Yet all with the same characteristics,
They are all extremely cute,
While also being extremely ignorant.

You act differently around them,
Then you do around us,
You act differently around the opposite sex,
Then you do around your fellow man,
And it's obvious when you talk to women,
You only have one thing on your mind.

It is quite clear what has happened,
Your personality has developed a new skill,
It is now like an ever-changing puzzle,
Pieces move around to suit your current situation,
And because they are constantly shifting,
You don't have one set personality.

You have three or four,
All controlled by the pieces of the puzzle,
Which hinge on the people that you are with.

Penny

Allow me to tell you about a friend of mine,
Her name is Penny,
I always tell her how I feel,
Since she listens to me.
Through her,
I can express my emotions,
And then my emotions,
Become her emotions,
My anger,
Becomes her anger,
My joy,
Becomes her joy,
My sadness,
Becomes her sadness.
Once I tell her how I'm feeling,
I feel much better,
As my emotions are no longer bottled up,
No longer trapped inside of me,
Waiting to be unleashed on someone,
Like a ticking-time bomb.

Learn to Let Go

When a loved one passes away,
A lot of tears are shed,
A lot of the same things are said,
Things along the lines of,
You will never be forgotten,
You will always live on,
You will forever be in my heart.
People say these things in sincerity,
But for them to get on with their lives,
They have to forget,
They have to learn to let go,
Because, if they don't,
The loss of their loved one,
Will consume their mind,
Will destroy their soul,
Leading to their own physical downfall.
Everyone has to learn to let go,
Or else it will take over their life,
Leading to their own demise,
Resulting in more tears being shed,
And in more hearts being bled.

Hits

"Life's not about how hard you can hit. It's about how hard you can get hit and keep going." - Rocky Balboa

Truer words have never been spoken,
But I have started to doubt myself,
Doubting how many more times I can get hit,
Before I receive the knockout blow.

It feels like my heart has been stamped on,
And smashed into smithereens,
By people who don't even realise they've done it,
And aren't even capable of doing it.

Yet I hear stories of other peoples troubles,
And realise that I don't know REAL pain,
While doubting if I've ever even taken a real hit,
Like those received by my friends.

I know that I merely exaggerate my feelings,
Believing them to be gut-wrenching,
When the fact of the matter is,
I have no right to even THINK that.

The supposed blows I've taken,
Are merely slaps that could've been delivered by an infant,
Whereas, the hits others I know have received,
Could have proved fatal...

Only for the strength and courage that they possess,
Strength and courage that I admire,
As well as envy,
As I would love to have the strength and courage...

To stand up and take the hits my friends don't deserve to take.

Heart of Fire

Flames dancing,
Embers smouldering,
Smoke rising,
Ash falling,
Warmth spreading,
However I am dreading,
The day that this fire burns out,
As this fire is my heart,
And if it does burn out,
It means my love of you,
And everything about you,
Will be extinguished,
Never to be rekindled.