Dawn 'til Dawn

From dawn ‘til dawn,
I think only of what was,
I sit in a haze
Of past memories,
A sleepless daze of nostalgia,
I console my broken heart
With futile clichés,
Such as,
It’s better to have loved and lost
Than to never have loved at all…

From dawn ‘til dawn,
Tears uninterrupted fall,
Hands are clasped together,
As tight as the tightest crevice,
In fear of what they would do
If they were given freedom of movement and thought,
Images of the past are ingrained
Upon the inside of my eyelids,
While the pain of the present is ingrained
Upon the whole of my soul…

From dawn ‘til dawn,
I shake violently at the thought
Of her in the arms of someone else,
I’m blinded by constant flashes of her
Rolling around, laughing with another,
They haunt my endless sleeplessness,
For there are no days or nights anymore,
Only the passing of a lone drawn out period of time
That started as soon as we ended,
As soon as the line was broken…

From dawn ‘til dawn…
‘til dawn ‘til dawn…
‘til dawn ‘til dawn…

Always waiting for the next dawn…
Hoping it will be the new one…
Before realising nothing’s changed…
And the hope for the next dawn starts again…

From dawn ‘til dawn…
‘til dawn ‘til dawn…
‘til dawn ‘til dawn…

The darkest of nights or the brightest of mornings…
Neither make a difference to this current predicament…
My thoughts, desires and epiphanies are the same…
From dawn ‘til dawn I’ll experience them all…

From dawn ‘til dawn…
‘til dawn ‘til dawn…
‘til dawn ‘til dawn…
Until one dawning day…

My eyes cease to open…

(Only in My) Dreams

Dream one,
We spend the entire day together,
Here, at my house,
We don’t kiss, but hold hands,
Enjoying the pleasure of each others’ company,
Then, it’s time to go,
We walk through the shopping centre,
Hands still held,
We exit through the entrance,
As the bus flies toward the stop,
Before I knew what was happening,
You were gone and headed for the bus,
I chase, but my legs are so heavy,
I may as well be running in retrograde,
It starts raining as the bus pulls away,
She must have heard the screams as I broke down
Somewhere between anger and tears,
At least I had the chance to…

Only in my most vivid of dreams…

Dream two,
I am working into the early hours,
A thought strikes me as I finish,
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if she just turned up now?
I smile to myself at the farce of the dream,
I struggle upstairs, open my bedroom door,
And there she is,
Wearing a creamy silk nightdress,
Smiling in all her glory,
She practically jumps on me,
We lie there and kiss for hours,
We caress while talking about the time we lost,
I even tell her about how I wished for her to appear,
She laughs,
We go to town for the rest of the day
And enjoy the day and each other,
The happiness in the air is just indescribable,
At least it had the chance to be…

Only in my most vivid of dreams…

Cliff of Moments

Standing on the cliff’s edge,
Looking down at the crashing blue moment to come,
When all of life’s previous moments
Flow freely through my now clear mind…

The moment I was finally given a chance,
The moment I felt taller than the Empire State,
The moment I felt my heartstrings tug,
The moment the colossus suddenly fell,
The moment I learned to let go,
The moment I left my shell,
The moment friendships were formed,
The moment I was accepted,
The moment I finally realised,
The moments I gave my heart away,
The moments it was thrown back in my face,
The moment I paid attention to everything around me,
The moment I listened to the cracking inside,
The moment all care disappeared,
The moment I decided to walk away, but couldn't move my feet,
The moment it all seemed to come together,
The moment I realised it had all fallen apart…

Which leads me to this current moment,
Standing on the cliff’s edge,
Arms outstretched,
Ready to succumb to the hurricane-strength breeze at my back…

Suddenly I’m thrown…

And I’m falling
Toward my final moment,
Toward the cold clarity of the deep blue sea,
It swallows me whole…

And I realise that everyone follows this well worn path…
Now the freezing blue makes way for the deathly black…

A Million Pieces

Two halves come together,
Expecting to fit perfectly,
They lock,
They fit for a moment,
But they break away,
Unable to be pieced together…

One of the halves has a jagged piece
Jutting out of its corner,
This is preventing the two halves
Making a coherent whole,
In an attempt to force each other to come together,
They smash off each other repeatedly…

This too fails,
More cracks and jagged pieces
Just appear in the two halves,
But still they try to force themselves to lock,
Continuously smashing off each other,
Every time they do, another piece of them falls away…

Until eventually, they are no longer two full halves…
They are just a million pieces on the ground…

As a Tower

Trying to stand as tall as a tower…
Even while others hold the real power…

Propagandists control what we read and think,
The future of thought is beginning to sink,
No one cares that we’re being told what to believe,
No one realises what’s put in front of us is there to deceive,
What one man can do is the hardest thing,
Breaking convention means breaking everything,
Standing up to be counted isn’t always easy,
But is must be done to keep the written word free,
Otherwise this growing web of lies
Will grow so much we’ll lie when someone dies…

Trying to stand as tall as a tower…
Even while others hold the real power…

Who do we turn to when searching for inspiration?
We just spin in circles in utter desperation,
Who is out there that can show us the way?
The world is just filled with those in dismay,
All this talk of a crisis spreads more lies,
All this talk of a crisis raises more cries,
People need to hear the truth of it all,
But the corporations want to hide the fall,
Control is slipping away from everything,
Yet still we, the people, elect to do nothing…

Trying to stand as tall as a tower…
Even while others hold the real power…

You'll Never Kick a Ball Again

The ball was suspended in the air,
Dropping slowly,
It was always my ball to win,
In I slid, winning it cleanly,
Then the studs made their connection,
Muscles snapped, bones cracked,
My leg was no long my leg,
It was hanging by a thread…

The ambulance came,
Strapped me up good and tight,
The pain was unbearable,
But it was the thought of never playing again
That brought tears to my eyes,
Everyone’s constant reassurances
Almost had me fooled into thinking it would be ok,
Almost…

Two days later,
After three major surgeries
(attempts to reconstruct my leg),
The doctor looked at me
With the most forlorn expression I have ever seen,
Biting his lower lip,
Showing blatant fear,
And he said…

You’ll never kick a ball again…

You can’t imagine the pain this sentence brought,
You can’t comprehend how devastated I was,
Simply because it seems so ridiculous
To feel that depressed about something like football,
People are dying, they all said,
You nearly lost your leg,
And you’re in tears about never kicking a football again?!
You’ve had it lucky…

No I haven’t,
The happiest I have ever been
Is on a football pitch,
In the heat of a match,
Tackles flying, the ball zipping,
Even when brought down to the lowest of the lows
I was always happier having the chance to experience those lows,
Then being at home and not experiencing them at all…

Now that chance has been taken away from me,
All because someone was half a second slower than I was,
It doesn’t seem fair,
Life rarely is,
But no matter what people do to try and console me,
No matter how many times they say I’m lucky
To still have a chance at walking again,
I’ll always be haunted by those doctor’s words to me…

You’ll never kick a ball again…

Widening

‘No soul to damn, no body to kick…’

He limps through the path of life,
Beaten and bruised,
But not yet broken,
Even though every bone in his body
Has been broken at least once before,
Even though his heart and soul
Have been smashed beyond repair,
He perseveres,
Even though his eyes show the internal cracks,
He could fall away from everything at any moment,
Pain both physical and emotional
Tortures him at all times
During the day and night,
His dreams always turn into nightmares,
Reminding him of the harshness of his life,
Reminding him of his inability to escape,
He doesn’t complain,
He endures,
Yet his nineteen years have left him
Feeling closer to ninety,
He’s experienced all of life’s turbulences
Without ever leaving his teens…

He’s won,
He’s lost,
He’s loved,
He’s lost,
He’s given,
He’s lost,
He’s received,
He’s lost,
He’s opened,
He’s lost,
He’s closed,
He’s lost,
He’s smiled,
He’s lost,
He’s bared,
He’s lost,
He’s been honest,
He’s lost,
He’s brought hope,
He’s lost,
He’s been the light,
He’s lost…

He’s burned out…
He’s lost more than anyone…
No one can live life in a deficit…
He may not yet be broken…
But the cracks are forever widening…

Lost Time

You were mine, but now I’ve lost you,
Everything around reminds me constantly,
Now I pine for the days gone by,
When we were one and we were free…

I miss the days we spent together,
Lying down, side-by-side,
They were always few and far between,
We always had time to bide…

All the borders and complications,
Ruined something unbreakable,
Now we’re split and miles away,
The pain I feel is unmistakable…

I can’t escape thoughts of you,
Your home follows me everywhere,
I remember it as if it was now,
My mind’s jogging is just not fair…

Leaving feeling is just not happening,
The more I run the more it stays,
I just want to fall asleep,
And wake up back in the past days…

Every time I open my eyes,
I hope things have gone back to how they were,
But sleep can’t bring this pleasure,
For lost time, there is no cure…

(another poem lamenting lost love, but this one has a measure of control that's been lacking in the others up to now - that's because I was listening to Bloc Party's Signs when writing it, meaning Lost Time can, essentially, be sung to the music of Signs).

What Defines an 'Emo'?

What defines an ‘emo’?
This is how I think it should be defined:

I think it makes a mockery of those
Who are truly depressed,
It is an image,
A persona,
That the youth of today have adopted
Because they think it is ‘cool’,
When, the fact is, they are flirting with something
That should never be flirted with,
If depression and genuine suicidal thoughts
Can be avoided, they should be at all costs,
What ‘emo’ does is take someone as close
To these things as mentally possible
Without throwing them in too deep…

The problem is, this achieves only one of two things:
One,
The person only takes one step towards being depressed,
Everything else they do is just part of an act,
An image of being depressed,
Until they realise how fake they’ve become,
This is what being ‘emo’ is all about,
Or, more tragically, two,
They become so immersed in their new found persona
That they begin to dig deeper and deeper inside their souls
And end up falling into the massive hole they’ve made within themselves,
They descend into genuine depression…

A lot of the things I’ve written are depressing,
I can’t deny that,
But, no matter what I’ve written,
No matter what I’ve claimed,
I KNOW I’m not depressed,
I have NO RIGHT to even think about claiming it,
And neither does anyone who has embraced
The social stance of an ‘emo’,
As they do not appreciate the strength of the emotion
They are toying with…

You know what the frightening thing about real depression is?
It can be hidden so easily,
I have never seen depression,
But I have seen it’s poker face,
I couldn’t describe depression,
But I could describe the mask a person wears to hide it,
‘Emo’ is like an oversized mask,
The difference is this mask is designed to be fake,
It’s designed to be tossed away,
The mask of depression is adopted against the person’s will
In an effort to see every day out to its end,
Until one day, they can’t see the day out,
And the mask falls and smashes on the ground,
As do the lives of all those closest to them…

‘Emo’ is a dangerous joke…
Depression is what it is and shouldn’t be tampered with…

Why Aren't You Mine?

When life’s intentions are misread,
The weight you carry feels so dead,
Carrying it is always a fight,
Victory never seems to be in sight…

Day after day, physical torture,
Night after night, mental confusion,
Twenty-four seven, emotional turmoil,
A fight of sorts all the time,
It all leads back to one question,
Why aren’t you mine?

Morning after morning, a struggle to bother,
Noon after noon, sudden stops and starts,
Evening after evening, a rush to the end,
A battle of sorts all the time,
It all leads back to one question,
Why aren’t you mine?

Hour after hour, intensity vanishes,
Minute after minute, urgency slips away,
Second after second, old feelings die,
Losing something all the time,
It all leads back to one question,
Why aren’t you mine?

As life lives on,
The dead weight inside gets heavier,
As the present moves away from the past
I want so desperately to hang onto…

It all disappears…
Like it never happened at all…