Realism – Written Sunday 23rd October 1994 (Aged 19)


do not go there child
you will catch your death from the cold
come in my child,
do not let them take you away
come in from the garden
you know it, we have to talk today
the priest who knocks on the door
you know him?
well he is fake
he only wants your money
and at he is less of a he
and with those stiletto’s, more of a she
society is a farce
everything good, is destined not last
as they pull another body out of the woods
the assassin goes down for five
the victims family get no justice
as they suffer pain for those not alive
go out there, go out into the street
tell everyone behind their closed door
tell them about the real world
they sit at home nice and comfy
television junkies on a diet of soap and chat
and when it is the news,
they turn over what they do not want to see
even if you think there is nothing you can do
it does not matter, more pretend to care
because they think they have to
but the feeling is just not there
listening to you, god is gone, so far away
so, what are we going to do today?

James Garratt – Sunday 23rd October 1994

More poems at

More about this blog, The Boy Behind the Glasses, here

More poems from 1994 here

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