Mitchell Birch

To my mother, whose favourite colour is purple.

Lilac dreams come true
When you stop feeling blue
...

Wrote in my hate for this selfish world.

In troubled times we cry for help
We care too much, only for ourselves.
...

Anguished, eternal imprisonment
The door only opens to feed
Alone in these four walls
How i wish to be freed.
...

A strand of hair hits the floor
Floating elegantly, only to fall.
Walked on by, not a soul knows
She cries each night whilst the wind blows
...