Mark Richardson Poems

He lived the theatre motto, the show it must go on
But hid behind the made-up face, a life so very wrong
His uniform a badge, of his work that made him proud
All were brightly coloured, matched his booming voice so loud
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I am who
Who am I?
Am I you
You are I
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Lost. Lost. Lost in confusion
Lust lust the glove of illusion
Save a soul for now it’s sold as love is mere infusion
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Faulty ways and dusty shoes, can’t school me in your world
Bite your Eden apple
Your voice does crack with venom
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You took my hand and we danced the moonlight
You made the moment
You shook the luck, as I wink the intention
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We walk into the moonlight
An others ring, glinting, staring, winking
Empathy pours like treacle
Scruples burrows into this nocturnal playground
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Now raise a glass of engrossing cheer, and fuel these fools
Taken aback, yet seeping sin
Marauding members, caught, entwined
They watch you, and wait.....
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Balance in your self-made shrine; bore me with your stories
We strip away your every layer, to yawn the law it is

Gather round my young pups, address my every whim
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Hurried cries in velvet skies
Had mishaps from blinkered eyes
My surprise, I’ve agonised
As I rise to say goodbyes
...