Silent tear

My wife

Cut so deep nothing comes out ur arm.


What happened to all his laughter and all his charm?


Voices that never end....


Fight to the death but they never bend.


They talk bad and put him down.


No wonder he always wears a frown.


Thoughts of his past are about to do him in.


The things hes done is unforgiveable sin.


He looks deep in the mirror into cold dark empty eyes.


Who can he trust when everyone lies.


Anger is fueled by rage.


Is it right to be locked in a cage?


A life he wishes could be layed to rest.


He will fight on doing whats best.


For now he'll live another day.


Can u hear what this young boy say?


Or is it a lost mumble of enseen and lost words that roll of the tip of f his tounge to the unknown?!


In this world this world his love ever fully shown?


Or will he remain silent and stare off in space ?


No wonder he never shows a smile upon his lost face.


Expression put into a rhyme. 


Better then a life of crime.


When will these voices end and give him a peacefull state of mind???


He was always so loveable and kind why was everyone so blind??


But his voices will never let him rest and live a normal life and be free.


In his world through his words please try and see.


Whats its like to battle voices and try to see whats real.


Well this boy will end for now with nothing but a silent tear.......


Silent tear

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Related entries

Walking the cobbled streets of Praira da rocha
Walking the cobbled streets of Praira da rocha

It’s about a day walking the cobbled streets of Praira da rocha

Walking the cobbled streets of Praira da rocha
Walking the cobbled streets of Praira da rocha

It’s about a day walking the cobbled streets of Praira da rocha

A birthday in Portimao – Contentment

It’s about a birthday celebrated in Portimao with my husband

A day on the beach in Praira da rocha

It’s about a day I enjoyed on the beach while I was vacating in Prara da rocha

Chemistry

Chemistry was my first poem composed from a park bench in Romford in Gidea Park.