Flowers in a Window and other poems

It's another cold night, with glitter on the ground,
Frosted ripples on the cars and there is no sound.

In the light of the moon, shone the secrets of night,
But they'll never be revealed when the dark becomes light.

Listen closely for the whispers of a wild imagination,
Lost in words and thoughts and fears not knowing where they came from.

Like a breath of smoke, captured by the air,
They'll soon be gone so take the time to notice when they're there,
Like flowers in a window, they'll soon be gone so take the time to notice when they're there.





As I look through the holes in the rotted ground,
I try to close my eyes and forget, the imagined sound,

Crawling out the window to the calling of the sunset sky,
Oranges and pinks, moving closer, eating up the land,

I don't know why it is, that I hear the things I know I hear,
Distant music pumping through, more and more, but it's way too clear,

Twelve at night, there's a noise, and somethings not right,
A knocking at my door, then a crash and I am no more,

I'll be the stood on the shore as they drown at sea,
Watching from a distance, shed no tears, the massacre completes,

Alarms are going off, but there's not many who can even hear,
Gathered up and stamped then one by one, they disappear,

Nothing beats the old, the new is all the same,
Modelled on a mannequin, they're all queued up, to join the craze,

Plagued by voilent nightmares, of a life, that once was,
Telling myself stories, the boredom, it comes in floods.




Sliding down the door,
Holding out for more,
Screaming at the locks,
That hold me to the floor.

The pictures are all fake,
Just passing time until they break,
Do dreams ever have a point?
Since we always have to wake.

Twisted and corrupt,
Thoughtless and abrupt,
Is there anyone who won't partake,
In this massive cover-up