jot-the-grotty

A hungry child sits, crying in the cold. People walk by him, growing old. A scared young girl, is hit by her dad, A frustrated teenager, slowly goes mad. A young infant, is ignored by his mother, A little girl, is raped by her brother. A teenage boy, cuts at his hand, To prove to his dad, that he is a man. A troubled child, has so many fears, And a sad young girl, has too many tears. As a young boy shuts his eyelids, He wonders what life's like, for the other kids…..

Please don't cry, my friend. I know you have an open wound, Please don't cry, my friend. Your troubles will be over soon. Please don't cry, my friend. He didn't mean to damage you, Please don't cry, my friend. I know, because I've been there too. Please don't cry, my friend. I know it seems to hide your hurt, Please don't cry, my friend. Although you feel, as low as dirt. Please don't cry, my friend. I know you have a lot to give, Please don't cry, my friend. I know you have a life to live. Please don't cry, my friend. It is no use, to push and shove, Please don't cry, my friend. You have your friends, and you, they love.

I dreamt of you last night. You took me by the hand You said, You'd never Let Me Go.     And then  the ground beneath my feet fell, And you did. I dreamt of dying last night It was the best dream I said, I'd never Want To Go.       And then you turned your back you looked away, and I did. I dreamt of an angel last night Shining like a gem. She said She'd never Have To Go. She said she'd stay, Protect, But then she did. I dreamt of a dream last night It spoke into my mind It said It'd never Need To Go.   And then It faded. It died And I woke.

When I feel like crying… It's my friends that keep the smile on my face. When I feel like falling… It's my friends that keep me up. When I feel like going mad… It's my friends that keep me sane. When I feel like sinking… It's my friends that keep me afloat. And when I feel like dying… It is my friends that give me reason to live.

I can sail the seven seas, In my room. I can swing through all the trees, In my room. I can surf a tidal wave, In my room. Can explore a giant cave, In my room. I can navigate the land, In my room. I can run through desert sand, In my room. I can play my music loud, In my room. I can dance upon a cloud, In my room. I can hide from all my fears, In my room. I can chase away the tears, In my room. A place I hide away, Is my room, That's where I want to stay, That's my room.

Who will see what I see? The blind will. Who will dance, when I dance? The lame will. Who will hear what I hear? The deaf will. Who will speak what I speak? The dumb will. Who will know what I know? The infant will. Who will trust who I trust? The cheated will. Who will find rest, where I rest? The weary will. Who will touch what I touch? The spirit will. Who will love who I love?

Since your love for me has died, nothing's making sense. My feet have sunk into the ground, the air I breathe seems dense. I look around and nothing's right, I hope it's over soon, The night is day, the day is night, the cock crows at the moon. The lion's mane, is cleaners' mop, the sharp notes sounding flat, Confused my driveway parking spot…for the neighbour's cat. You said you'd stay forever, not a day less would do, But the hands of time keep ticking, so why can't I find you? Your haunting whisper deafens me, when I shout, I'm mute, I see gunfire killing hares, like them, it's me you shoot. Proportion is all out of whack, my li

The poem walked down the road with a pen, and began to write on his hand. If someone were to peer over his shoulder, this is what they'd see. -the dusty road. -all strange -cottage-like…hmmmm, maybe? Not sure. -coke-can -the idea, turning point. -stumble on can, not big deal. -get out pen. -start… -the poem walked down a dusty, deserted road. Nothing seemed familiar here. The buildings along the sides were like nothing he had ever seen. They were so small. Cottage-like. And yet, they still towered over him in a powerful, demanding way. Down to his feet he looked, and kicked the dull, lifeless can that lay before him. A thought oc

Here the trees reach the sky, So you climb up so high. And the clouds leave the sky, Great conditions to fly. And the breeze through the sky, Makes you happily sigh, And the clearness of sky, Makes you just wanna try, To glide up to the sky, Then you start to ask, why… There's a stillness of sky, You can see with the eye, And a silence of sky, Like the wind is too shy. Shadow haunts sky, As I start to spy, A cloud enter sky, So the stillness did lie. And the rain falls from sky. As I start to cry. And the life leaves the sky. So I start to die.

I wish I had a mango. I'd peel it. I think. No. I wouldn't. I'd cut off the side bits and then get a knife. And then do that dicey thing, where you cut vertical and horizontal lines in the bits. Then I'd turn it inside out. Then I'd give half to you. Then we'd eat it. Mangos are quite complex. Never noticed. Actually. I'm allergic to mangos. I wish I had a potato.