Lauren Cunningham

Lauren Cunningham Poems

Lauren Cunningham Biography

Hello, my name is Lauren Gilroy Cunningham and at the moment I am 15. I live in a town called Beith which is in North Ayrshire, Scotland. I go to Garnock Academy which (to be honest) is a terrible school! Although born in Fife (Scotland) I moved to Kent (England) when i was a baby and then to Upton, Meresyside (England) when I was 3. I lived there until I was eight. It was one of the scariest things I ever had to do, moving back to Scotland. In Upton I went to quite a pleasant public school (which's name escapes me) and had never experienced any real violence. Within a week of going to my new school in Beith (Beith Primary) I happened to Witness some young boy having the shit kicked out of him less than four meters away from me. I have made many friends in the Garnock Valley and in town (glasgow city centre) of-course! =P It used to be that I loved goin to VooDoo the Under 18's Cathouse every Saturday night in Glasgow with A LOT of mates. Sadly that stopped - although i do still go occasionally - because many of the people who used to go moved on to uni or just simply became bored so 'The Catty' became like shit =o Nowdays I just try and do well at school =P Write poems, songs and stories now and then and have fun =D)

The Best Poem Of Lauren Cunningham

A Fickle Mind

The traveling wind,
speeding in my direction,
Forcing me to stumble in my path,
I feel weak,
Insignificant, to Nature's awsome Wrath.

'This Way! ' His powerful voice,
Ordering me to follow his footsteps!
I feel betrayed,
Abused
By a man.
Of whom does not deserve that title!

An army of Hailstones come crashing from the sky
Battering me,
Bruising my pathetic, fragile body,
But my pale withering flesh is numb,
And I don't feel a thing.

'Are you comin' woman? '
That Rotting Wart,
On the skin of my life,
That agonising, terrorising client,
Of Lucifer's futile practise.

I close my eyes,
Try my best to stand steady,
'Aye, ' I think,
'I'm coming, just as soon as...'

The storm now is in full chorus;
The hailstones twisting and twirling in dance,
accompanied by the rythm of my chittering teeth.

He is bawling,
Loudly, again.
But, I ignore,
I cannot REALLY hear him,
I see no need to trouble my self, again,
I could not REALLY see him,
And now, since I feel no need,
For company, companionship,
He is gone,
Lost in his creator,
Lost in my mind.

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