Sydney La Roche
Biography of Sydney La Roche
I'm an actor, artist, singer, songwriter, performer and general thoughtful person, and I also often write poems, which will go here.
Sydney La Roche Poems
Poverty. He wants me. He infects me like HIV. Like a cancer of the soul, Of which I can't let go.
Cigarettes And Alcohol
Ingrained inside my coffee-stained soul, Is a sweet vanilla-fudge toffee flavoured hole, With a damsel in distress: A Disney Princess, With a cigarette-smile, spouting sentiments I can't repress.
Why can't keys and broken pens pierce the skin? Why must I venture into the kitchen? Is there nothing sharp underneath my bed, So I can secretly shed my old hide?
Six Feet Underground
You just couldn't penetrate the ways I loved you. Was it just the buggery that you were into? For our affliction I would have departed. Please stop screwing me. I'm broken-hearted.
Agony lasts an eternity. It dims with time but never dies, Like heiroglyphs adrift in time.
This Battle's Lost
I appreciate this battle's lost. Velvet violins dulcify despair. Tabla's pound and pennies are tossed, As angelic anguish adorns the air.
Swallowing silence burns like Tesco Value Vodka. The time-bomb-clock's tick-tock's stop in shock, At the painful pining, reminiscent of a battered toddler.
I Hate You
As a bard, I feel it compuslory to express myself. I feel burdened to dictate morales with each stanza, Such as undying love, forgiving somebody else, Those times when we surrender and throw our hands up.
I could dazzle you with my long words. I could intrigue you with my free verse. I could reach for my thesaurus. I could encite it with a chorus.
What Right Do You Have?
What right do you have to divulge in such dissonance? What right do you have to pass judgements? For every butcher and betrayer does suffer, perchance. For who would desire a mind that torments?
Gin And Rubicon
I don't know what I'm feeling, or what I'm faking anymore. My only indicator to the pain thats real, Are my tears. But I dont know what triggers them.
Stop! I really love you! But you're just too far away... And yes. I've been unfaithful. And yes. I am to blame.
I don't lust for imprisonment, Or ignorance of a blissful life. I place trust into my torment, Bleeding like my veins through time.
Mistakes To Go Round
I have nothing to say. Not a single line. It all sounds the same. It all sounds benign.
You, with the turbulent spark in your eyes,
Disgrace me with counterfeit decorum;
And feed me with your artifice and lies.
My eyes shut tight, I approach the forum...
Of mindlessness and enduring anger;
Invalid species of silicon heart,
With nothing discussed but benign matter;
Vacant voids with feeble fibs to impart.