Steve Armstrong Poems

She sat there, her feelings burning inside of her,
her love, anger, guilt, pain all eating away at her.
How could she tell them what she felt?
Her own mother and father?
...

I know your hurting,
I can see it in your words,
how sad he makes you feel now.
...

I see you now,
and it makes me cry in my heart,
one so beautiful, and yet,
so damaged and messed up inside.
...

The phone call ends, and I step out of the phone box.
It's dark outside, and the cold, hard rain,
beats down on me from above.
Like arrows piercing armour,
...

Their screams of pain echo in my ears,
from the left of me, from the right, straight in front of me.
There is nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide,
I cannot wake, for this is not a dream,
...

He seems to me a fool in full splendour;
You yearn for him,
and yet, he does not give you a second thought.
Surely he is blind,
...

There he sat, alone in the tiny,
mouldy, grey-green stone walled cell,
the horrific screams echoed in the corridor outside.
He got up off his makeshift bed – a wooden bench,
...

And as she laid on the bed by the old dresser,
she slowly drifted into a sleepy state,
a calming feeling washed over her body,
like the waves of the mighty sea.
...

I see him now, as I walk up,
in between the shopping stores,
and the cafés that litter the pavement ahead.
...

You are majesty, I think,
The belle of the ball,
All eyes are on you,
As you walk into the room.
...