Monthly Archives: September 2013

Big Issue?

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The sun beats down
On her thick black hair
Shines into her eyes
Blinding herShe could call for help
No-one can hear her

They built a well
She can get water

She can’t help being here
She was born this way
She can’t leave

Starving in Africa

The rain beats down
Through his long dry hair
Runs into his eyes
Blinding himHe’s begging for help
No-one listens to him

Another ten pence
He can get a bottle of water

He can’t help being here
After what Uncle Jack did
He can’t go back

Starving in Britain

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Cut Off

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Why are you hiding?
From all of the world
You’ve built your walls so high
 
I tried to climb over
But fell harder every time
Becoming more bruised and bloodied
 
You let no-one in
Just shut up
In a prison of your own making
 
I’ve been sat outside for so long now
Cold and alone
The endless waiting breaking my heart
 
So what will happen when your fortress isn’t enough anymore?
Will you smash down those walls expecting to find me there
Battered and tired from waiting so long
 
Will I have gone?
Exhausted with waiting
Wandered off to find an open door
 
So that when your walls break down
And you peep back out into the sunlight
Nothing will await you then but desolation
 
But we both know I’d come back
In a heartbeat, without hesitation
Don’t we?

Do Grow Up!

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Psychologists in their eternal wisdom have recently decided that adolescence doesn’t end at 18 as previously thought, but in fact 25.

So, what’s the deal?  Are you effectively a child right up into your mid-twenties?  Do you wake up on your 25th birthday full of maturity and wisdom?

Personally, I think I’ve regressed.  When I was 19 I had a house, a fiance and a job earning pretty decent money.  Now, at the grand old age of 29, I’m single, renting a bedroom, living on manageable (just about) money and studying for a degree.  So, can you realistically put a time limit on when someone is classed as an “adult”?

I know lots of people who are younger than me, with children, mortgages and marriages and lots of people my age who are at university, living in shared accommodation and wouldn’t know what to do with a baby if it landed in their lap.  Maturity, much like most things, is down to the individual.  There are 18 year olds who are mentally older than some 25 year olds and 25 year olds who are mentally older than people in their 50s.  It all depends on your experience and your personality.

Besides, most of the time when someone says someone is mature or “grown up” they actually mean they’re boring.

As for the young teenage girls who go around with six inch of make up and saying things like “totes amazeballs” who people say are growing up too fast, they’re not really are they?  They’re just kind of tragic.

At the end of the day there’s nothing wrong with a good water fight, giggling over innuendo or doing things you always regretted not doing when you were younger.  Surely it’s more mature to admit you made a mistake and try and fix it rather than just plodding along pouring money into bricks and mortar?

So to the psychologists who have decided everybody grows up at 25, the question I ask is does anyone really ever grow up at all, or do they just learn to behave in the way society demands they do?

Don’t worry about acting like an adult or acting like a child.  It’s more important that you just live how you were meant to and don’t put on an act at all.  As my good friend Will wrote “all the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players”.  So play.

Personally, I wouldn’t want my personality to be described using a word that is also used to describe strong cheese anyway.

Counting the Tears

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One for endings
One for the faces you will never see again
One for the faces who now ignore you in the street
One for the ones who glance in recognition but do nothing else
Because you both know anything further would only make it worse
 
One for the rough days
One for the things you can never have
One for the things you have lost
One for the things that made you happy
And are now the source of your heartache
 
One for the things that went wrong
One for the youth you wasted
One for the roads you never went down
One for the realisation
That no matter what you do you’ll always regret something
 
Then they become innumerable
Heavy on your chest
Choking your soul
 
Try to see
Through the blinding veil
Try to see 
And if you’re very lucky
And look hard enough
When all is said and done
You might just have
Some for the laughter