Biography of Dean Simpson
Im only 18, i've had a very generous life and after losing my real Mother when i was only 5 weeks old, then being accepted in by my Aunt and Uncle, (Kevin and Patricia) , i have enjoyed my 18 years and 12 months.
I feel that Love itself has everything to do with poetry. Everyone feels hearbreak, heartache and these all help me write the majority of my poetry. Im a sucker for love and i aint ashamed to admit it.
I guess my poetry is aimed for anyone who is stuck in love or dealing with the pains and stress of love. Hope you all enjoy.
Dean Simpson's Works:
Dean Simpson Poems
If I Make It Through
If i die tonight I'll go with no regrets If its in your arms
Me And You...
So many reasons With too many questions, One question With one reason.
Why am i bored? Why am i sad? Why am i tired? Why am i mad?
Hidden Away In The Darkness
Hidden in the lies and deceit I still lay awake in the restless nights Thinking of a once colourful past Covered in smiles and un-dying, darkened love.
Another day is going by Im thinking about you all the time Ive written this letter in my head Coz so many things were left unsaid
My Pretty Green Eyes...
Could it be the way you stare at me when your mad Or the look you give me when im next to you Or is it the way the tears glistened in your eyes When you were sad...
As we walk into these people The same day passes People look the same now No one knows the differance.
Deep Down Inside
Deep inside a problem is captive Motionless and Undisturbed Taken for Granted and Misunderstood.
Here it comes, just count to ten Shrouds of darkness over me Im only at five Take my hand and return me to peace
My Broken Valentines
Everyone smiling and all are happy, Flowers being shared and chocolates being eaten. But why, oh why? Am i not apart of it?
My head hurts My arm hurts My leg hurts My everything hurts.
My Brother In Iraq
Many a time Ive heard on the news Names of the fallen soliders. My heart stops, adrenaline flows I pray to god its not your name i hear.
I can feel the pressure Pushing harder on me Im so unsure On how to cope under such stress
Memories Of A Distant And Close Past
Waking up to the thought of you It hurts more and more As the days pass me by
By My Side...
As i drift into a soft sleep
I am suddenly woken, by the softest of touches
Your arms around me like the Vines to a Tree
I am the tree, hard, angry, dying...
You are the vine, gentle, calming, loving...
And as i roll over to hold you as you hold me too