Graham Jones Poems

I come now from those foreign places
Unknown to those with hidden faces
Bedecked and different, for them to leer
As one unknown, something to fear
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Such is the passion the want of desire
To burn in the heart with fingers of fire
Wet lashes wrapped up, in a sweet velvet rose
To follow your heart where ever it goes
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In back streets dark, cold and wet
Forgotten figures in corners slept
Ragged figures of human debris
Regrets and rats for company
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He stands alone now etched by time
As though was meant to be
His frame all bent and twisted
For all who pass to see
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Colour me blind in a world that is asphalt
Where sensations are blurred, emotions not felt
Damnation is welcomed with wide-open arms
And pity is shunned, like skeletal charms
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Take heed a tortured heart to heal
Scarred and bruised like orange peel
Worn, now empty cast aside
Like so much flotsam on the tide
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Evergreen leaves over glades of white
In harmony with winters spite
Now hang their heads with maidens dew
With all their glory showing through
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Once again God claps his hands
And the world reacts in kind
To natures fury, in all its wrath
To devastate mankind
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In the hustle and bustle of modern day living
A place full of greed and much less forgiving
In back streets and alley's, in dust and decay
A new breed of child reaches out for the day
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Grey days and the blackest of nights
Revealed by the dawn, the most terrible sights
Confusion runs wild, amid ruins and smoke
Pursued by emotions of anger and hope
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