The demons have crept into our lives.
Status gained, freedoms waned.
The demons are creeping back into our lives.
The demons, they have us.
Tag: 2025 poetry
My Memories Are a Museum Now – Written Thursday 5th June 2025 (Aged 50)
My memories are a museum now.
I am looking at exhibits — artefacts of the past.
Sometimes there is an air of regret, sometimes joy.
My memories are a museum now.
This Journey – Written June 2025 (Aged 50)
This career has been harder than it should have ever been, or needed to.
This life has been harder than I thought it would ever be.
I married her once, and then it went away.
Jam – Written Monday 2nd June 2025 (Aged 50)
He promises free jam, but the jam never arrives.
People believe; they think he’s right, convinced that they understand.
Tomorrow comes, and there is no free jam.
And no matter what happens, people fail to learn.
Swirls – Written Thursday 1st May 2025 (Aged 50)
I don’t want to be caught up in the swirls of opinion, lost in praise and its hollow sound.
Scuff Marks – Written Monday 28th April 2025 (Aged 50)
Scuff marks. No lasting damage, but the scuff will remain.
Available For The High Jump – Written Wednesday 7th May 2025 (Aged 50)
Ordinary has its appeal… let me pack you a picnic basket. I do it with all my love and all my care
Woken Up – Written Wednesday 23rd April 2025 (Aged 50)
I feel like I’ve woken up —
finally seen what I could not see.
These last few months
have taken strips away from me.
Liberation – Written April 2025 (Aged 50)
Liberation — arrives for now,
with strong arms to lift off those heavy clouds,
those dark clouds of miserable greys.
Covered in Stains – Written Tuesday 1st April 2025 (Aged 50)
Your morality is covered in stains.
Your ethics have lost their grain.
And your addiction is in pain.
The Boy Behind The Glasses. Poetry and Writing 