Train of Inspiration

He stands alone on the train tracks,
While people on both platforms scream at him,
A train is coming!
They scream for help from the stewards,
Get him off the tracks!
But they are too afraid to do it,
The train is too near, we'll be killed!
While all this was going on,
The train thundered unrelentingly toward the man,
And he willed it to do so,
To go faster,
It's the only way, he told himself,
As he watched the smoke billowing from the top of it,
And as he listened to the train's horn carry through the air,
This is the key to unlocking it...

He could hear the shouts of the people no more,
The noise of the train's horn,
Was the only thing he could hear,
The sight of the speeding train,
The only thing he could see.
He was so close to it now,
His reason for being on the tracks,
And as the train edged closer to him,
He edged nearer to getting it...
Hit me, he willed it,
HIT ME!
Then the impact,
All he could see was white,
And then it really hit him,
And he smiled...

He woke up,
And he picked up his pen.

Old Friends and Strangers

Buildings loom large over me,
Faceless people pass me by,
I search endlessly for a familiar one,
But to no avail.
All of these strangers,
Laughing and joking together,
Make me vulnerable and alone,
As I miss my own friends,
The ones I know I can trust.
Before I looked forward to the chance,
To meet new people,
To make new friends,
But now I realise,
The only friends I really need,
Are the ones I left behind...

Things Inside

People constantly overrate me,
Judging me on what they see on the surface,
Thinking I'm a wonderful person,
But not taking into account the things inside,
The things that no one on the outside,
Ever get to see,
But if they did,
They would be shocked and appalled,
And they would finally see the real me.

People I know haven't yet learned,
That people can't be judged on exterior alone,
That things on the inside,
Aren't always what they seem on the surface.
I am battling the things on the inside,
As I can't live with them in there,
And I can't lie to my friends anymore
As I want to feel like I've earned the image,
That they have of me...

But I feel I'm fighting a losing battle,
The time has come for drastic action.

Bright Nights

The disappearance at night of your wonderful bright light,
Doesn't stop your entrancing voice whispering to me during the night...

During those dark times my hearts calls out to you,
Even then, I see that magical smile belonging to you...

It's not the dusty bed sheets that I smell when lying there,
What I smell is the scent of you and of your luxurious brown hair...

Even when I hug my pillow so tight to me,
I imagine it's you squeezing me just as tightly...

So when I wake up hoping to see your beautiful face,
I'm always sad to find only a pillow in it's place...

I hope one day that it will be you who is lying next to me,
Then my nights will be just like days, shining just as brightly...

(Bright Nights stands for two things - the first sign of change in my style of writing, and as an example of my supreme naivety upon entering college).

The Gladiator

He stands tall in the depths of the Coliseum,
Sword in hand, armour strapped on tightly,
Ready to do battle in that hallowed arena,
Ready to fight to the death,
For his right to be free.
Even there, in the far reaches of the Coliseum,
Where he's closer to hell than to heaven,
He can still hear the chants of the Roman mob,
Willing each Gladiator to make that killer blow,
Willing the Emperor to give the signal of death.
As the gates begin to open,
And he glimpses the sun for the first time
In what feels like an eternity,
He's urged to take what others call,
His last steps into Satan’s waiting arms.
He stands tall still,
And even the sight of many men with weapons,
And of lions and death traps,
All out to end his life,
Fail to shake his firm belief,
That he will win his freedom,
And he will see his family again...

The gates are open,
The Gladiator takes his first step towards freedom.

The Dream

We walk down a familiar road,
Arm in arm,
A hint of a wandering hand,
I hear laughter and turn,
Expecting to see you,
But am shocked to see another,
A close friend,
Someone I wouldn't have expected to see,
On my arm,
Smiling back at me,
Shock is replaced by desire,
And we move closer together,
For the goodnight kiss...

Then I wake up,
Very confused.

Something to Prove

I feel I have something to prove,
Not to those who cheer me,
Not even to those who jeer me,
But to the one person was never convinced,
The one person who always criticised me,
No matter what I did,
The one person who never thought I was good enough,
The one person who never believed in me...

Whether I play well or not,
There is always something for him,
To look at and lambast,
But if I can prove to him once and for all,
That I am good enough to play alongside those,
Who are perceived to be better than I am,
Then I will go on and show the ability,
That everyone already insists I have...

I must prove to myself that I have that ability.

Old Feelings Change

The fears have eased away,
The vulnerability is no more,
All of a sudden,
The large buildings aren't so big anymore,
The faceless people of before,
Are now instantly recognisable,
As some of the wonderful new friends I have made.

Our group has become unbelievably tight nit,
In such a short space of time,
We all care for each other so much,
Despite only knowing each other a week,
I now feel really secure,
Amongst this tight nit group of friends...

My old feelings have changed for the better.

Luck of the Draw

I've been told that I'm a nice guy,
I've been told that I'd be perfect,
I've been told everything,
But everything has always been followed by that word,
But...
Everyone around me seems to be a couple,
Everyone around me insists I need to be patient,
Everyone around me reckons I'll be great,
But no one around me wants to give me the chance I crave,
To prove the supposed greatness I possess.
As everyone around me couples up,
I'm left on my own,
With the same compliments ringing in my ears,
Followed by that same word over and over again,
But...

That, I suppose, is the luck of the draw.