Matthew Holloway Poems

The world is unkind
Uncaring, a concrete jungle
Destructive of the living
Hateful of nature
...

I feel the need to write
One of those beautiful poems
The kind that makes people stop
And play out compliments
...

I awoke this morning
And wished it had been all a dream
The horrific nightmare which unfolded
Twisted faces fraught with pain
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It is set to be
At times we will part
Be it for an hour
Or a few to a day
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I dream of you my sweet friend
A love dictates these words
Odes and verse play out for you
A sonnet beckons
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In the early hours of the day
I wake and whisper you name
I dream a little you and I
And wonder what could be
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Who'd want to be a writer
Beset by this madness
And all these sleepless nights
Trying in vain to capture
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Pools of emerald green
And the purest blue
Beckon me to bathe
In waters of poetry
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To the beauty I may never hold
To those eyes and lips
I may never call my own
To those hands I may never hold
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I love you
I'm smitten
Beset by your beauty
You could own me
...