Broken Mind Poem by Mark Bell

My mornings are always broken
It's raining razor blades again
Bombs are falling, made of cotton wool
Oh it's sad, it's another broken morning

Another morning has broken
See the crows have taken my eyes
My imagination is still fertile
As my physical being subsides

The morning is crying
Stuck in my cocooned being
My mornings are painful
Never knowing never seeing

It's raining again
Razor blades burn
The pain resides
As the sunshine returns

I'm in a catch 22
Contradiction is rife
Barb wire shoes
Left left
Right right

Another morning has broken
It's raining who am l?
Can I ask the question
Does the sun ever cry

Razor blades are falling
With a cotton wool bomb
I can't remember
I shall not remember
That day I died on the Somme

Would it have been different
Had I'd rested in peace
Than to suffer every morning
In a bloodied worn out fleece