How much is enough under the winter's sun?
Why is it that some days still feel warm,
No matter how frosty?
If we're only ever a word away;
No matter how far we drift,
Then why is it so hard to do?
Some places lie far, far away;
Far from all worries, all troubles.
They are treasures.
But can you truly appreciate,
Just how beautiful something is,
When you don't know what it took to get it?
We hide within a dream,
As we stand beside the abyss.
Star-cross'd lovers reaching out,
Destined only to fall.
Our saviours turned out to be pillagers,
Their promises hollow, and the process toxic.
Innocence was ripped from the land,
And from the hearts of men.
Younger and younger we realise;
Never-Land was a whore-house,
Alice was insane,
No prince charming is coming to save the day.
Dreams die young,
Following the loss of hope.
No saviour is coming,
We gain, only to lose.
YOU ARE READING
Every Trick In The Book
PoetryThis anthology of mostly narrative poems mostly revolves around real people's stories. People's real stories of war and peace, of love and heartbreak, of alcoholism and loss; they have been immortalized in this anthology.
