I wish I could getaway,
just for a day,
not vacate the country,
but an aspect of myself.
...
Lets build a home,
sleep under a leaky roof,
while hope resides in
dead end street.
...
I am a fan,
I sit in the stands.
I'm sticking with you,
like gum to the bottom of a shoe.
...
Flowers in a garden,
Roses and their thorns,
seeds were sewn,
and now they're in blessed bloom.
...
I can hear a clock ticking,
a bell striking,
battery's running low.
My eyes are blurred
...
I thought I could help,
do some good,
well someone should.
Bandage up the bloodied,
...
A child,
wrapped in blanket,
for his fever,
a band aid for a knock.
...
Paint me a picture,
of what this is meant to be,
a land of hope
and opportunity.
...
Scream, shout
grab a banner and demonstrate,
start a movement,
front a parade.
...
Pacify me,
as I begin to weep,
hold me close
as tears begin to dribble onto my cheek.
...
I live in Birmingham, I've been writing since I was very young. I was persuaded to join the site and submit my poems. I love all forms of poetry, It's an amazing form of communication, that's part of the reason I write, in order to express pent-up feelings. Thankyou for reading.)
Getaway
I wish I could getaway,
just for a day,
not vacate the country,
but an aspect of myself.
A feeling, a release,
just for a day,
no LSD trips or a drag of purple haze,
under a tree maybe
and watch the swans drift by.
Be surrounded by trees,
and create the illusion,
of being on an island,
in the middle of sea.
The phrase
'No man is an island'
could be true.
In the middle of the grass,
in between the shops
and the underpass.
Urban yet rural,
alone but not,
remembered but just forgot.
Spend a day in it's gaze,
oh I wish I could just getaway,
in spirit or through my ink,
to be new, in a place unknown.
No money for a flight,
not enough money for a flight,
no wind to fly a kite,
supersonic train or canalboat ride.
Just getaway,
from family or friends,
lose em for a day
and find myself again.