Sometimes I feel it was my fault
Perhaps it was something I said
Sometimes I wake from a nightmare
Reliving it again in my head
...
I never wanted to be famous, I never looked for fame
I always hoped for understanding, to play the rhyming game
I write from life’s experiences, in an empathetic way
...
‘You are a poet’ he said, ‘How does that feel? ’
Like nothing on earth, I think, like I am bleeding words
It calms my system, but fires my imagination
...
Keep on searching for your peace and always look for love
remembering that life is a journey that is over far too quickly
Measure each success from within, without pride or arrogance
...
Tender days of yearning, longing to be free
Love amongst the school books, crying out his name
What was this teenage worship, how did I want him so
Was this to be my future, was I to join the foe
...
I need to tell my story
I need to get it right
To tell you what has made
formed and shaped me
...
Too many broken promises
Too many doors block the truth
My life is a worn out recipe
of something that never was cooked
...
I am one
I lifted her up
as if I were a God
and she was my angel
...
Empty streets of desolation
Boarded up houses standing alone
Factory buildings padlocked and empty
...
Your eyes said it all, there were no words
I had no excuse, I had no defence
A moment of madness, but still I knew
...