George Price

George Price Poems

There's a man without the window
Wrapped in cold and thin.
Why not throw open the doors
And let the stranger in?

She hit paradise
That night.
Dark diamond ghosts
Glittering silver as they pranced

What is this world, this silence?
The cracked paint on flaking walls
The still spiders clutching to the beams.

Tears fall on shoulders and cracks in eyelids
As I stand and watch you smiling so hard.
Weeping at happiness, as I tell fibs
To my naive self, my chest burning barred

The death in the desert is dying again
And the soldier in red is still falling.
A thousand wild dervishes whirl round, insane,
Outnumbering all but the fallen.

Somewhere 'cross the stormy valley
Through the darkness, through the rain
There's a girl who cares, who doesn't think me a pain
There's someone out there in the rain.

I do the
Drudgery of life,
Make notes,

A head of scruffy hairs
Strays looping and grouping uneasily
Over glasses loops, and, unawares,
Catching his words in snares.

Oh mankind be not happy
Do not let smiles tear
The fabric of self
For Hell tastes twice as bad

Sometimes the world seems grim
Full up to the brim
With sorrow and tears.
All we can do is frown.

You’re sad tonight
In the darkness
Far away from me and my dreams
You’re lonely

To all those faces I have loved
Or held so far or near
Forgetfulness is but a lie
We tell to keep away our fear.


I find myself checking my phone
Every spare minute
A hopeful fool
Who cannot surrender the wonders of life

Across the street
There's a girl in blue
With shining eyes
And hands that do

I saw you sitting at a bar last night,
Sipping drinks, laughing softly as you do,
And not looking up, not seeing me write
Of your smiling eyes, your dress so blue,

George Price Biography

I'm a student and general layabout from the UK, living in the rural county of Norfolk. I occasionally write, both poetry and prose, mainly to keep me sane. It sometimes works. Anyway, please do read my stuff and let me know what you think. Also, if you do enjoy my work, please do take a look at the poetry of Jack Growden of Australia; he's another young poet with a similar style and feel to his work. See http: //

The Best Poem Of George Price

The Man Without The Window

There's a man without the window
Wrapped in cold and thin.
Why not throw open the doors
And let the stranger in?

Why isolate the weirdo
Who, without his threadbare coat
Is no different from you
In your deep and darkened moat.

So welcome in the stranger
Call him friend again
Let the world come in as equals
And our equality no class maim.

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