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WELCOME

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Hi friends, Thanks for visiting my poetry page, you are more than welcome. I love writing, it is a form of escape, it can take you anywhere you want to go, it is your own imagination running wild, I write poems daily, they may not be always deep, some may be too deep, but its the way I feel at the time. Please come back from time to time and read some more. I also have a public poetry blog, were you are more than welcome to submit a poem of your own, for the World to read. Have a nice day. William Sinclair Manson. MY INTERVIEW WITH ROBERT HEWITT Please checkout MY PUBLISHED BOOKS Please checkout BLOG PROMOTIONS Please checkout SHORT STORIES Please checkout PUBLIC POEMS Please checkout BILLY'S RANTS   THANKS OR VISITING.
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THE PAIN WE BEAR.

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Silence in the room is what you require your head is spinning you start to perspire. Alone in the dark the pain is intense nothing is helping spare no expense. Feeling sick you cannot relax round in circles migraine at its max. Certain foods you eat can make it worse this horror in your body a satanic curse. You cannot see anyone you need to be alone the slightest noise even the phone. Eventually the pain starts to depreciate you can face the light from the window grate. You can cope with pain but migraines are severe you cannot do anything but await it with fear. in pain Please checkout MY PUBLISHED BOOKS Please checkout BLOG PROMOTIONS Please checkout SHORT STORIES Please checkout PUBLIC POEMS Please checkout BILLY'S RANTS   THANKS OR VISITING.
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COUCH POTATO.

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Home from work, the kettle on It's time to relax and frown upon the square of light a means of escape to see a man fly, with a funny red cape. He saves the world, chases the bad is it her brother?no it's her dad! laughter, tears, fictional emotion escaping reality in a whimsical notion. Soaps, drama's, movies too glued to the box no time for the Loo will he live?does she die! is it a human?no it's a fly! kidnapped by aliens, fighting a war what is the purpose, who is it for? stuck in a world of frantic array actors and cartoons, models in clay. Your own little world, no one dare enter the sofa, this room, is your worldly centre no means to an end it goes on and on from the start of the evening, till the dot has gone.
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TUNNEL VISION.

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Swimming in a sea of despair darkness all around tempted again by the "other side" the voices bear the sound. One battle, too many wars showing all the scars endless music in ghostly symphonies egotistically marred. walking along a darkened tunnel not even a "crack of light" walls so cold with dampness rife I will not face the fight.. Charred ruins of "come what may" echo near your face touching, prodding ,beckoning you in your own dark space. Escape this torture, give in to me the light you may never find just as you exist and face the music I know your in my mind. Darkness falls the light is near I can feel the warmth on my hand let me walk inside your heaven I am now outside the land. I waited till you came for me happiness fills the air reaching, beckoning, supporting, relieved from this nightmare.
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https://hubpages.com/literature/AN-INTERVIEW-WITH-BRITISH-POET-AND-HUMORIST-WILLIAM-MANSON
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WELCOME

By
Image
Hi friends, Thanks for visiting my poetry page, you are more than welcome. I love writing, it is a form of escape, it can take you anywhere you want to go, it is your own imagination running wild, I write poems daily, they may not be always deep, some may be too deep, but its the way I feel at the time. Please come back from time to time and read some more. I also have a public poetry blog, were you are more than welcome to submit a poem of your own, for the World to read. Have a nice day. William Sinclair Manson. MY INTERVIEW WITH ROBERT HEWITT Please checkout MY PUBLISHED BOOKS Please checkout BLOG PROMOTIONS Please checkout SHORT STORIES Please checkout PUBLIC POEMS Please checkout BILLY'S RANTS   THANKS OR VISITING.
Please Continue »

THE ONLY WAY THEY KNOW.

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Born to a World of hate guns and knives the way nothing to look forward to except horror every day. Ethnic groups everywhere fighting for their right looking after their families every day and night Days and nights we live in fear wondering when it will come this isn't a dream or fairytale fighting for the last crumb. Children nearly as young as five carrying weapons to kill no teachers to teach them civility keenly craving for blood to spill. Parents in jail or not around no one to discipline the young left in a world of commotion it appears whistling the tune as its sung. What is the answer? no one seems to know or care just statistics to quote in the news as hatred grows in every child. fighting of physical abuse. Safe in our own little domain forgetting reality in the streets carnage and disdain every day. you don't get a tab or receipt. todays youth, neglected each day brushed under the carpet "oh well" never h...
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CHILDREN OF WAR.

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Born in a World of hate guns and knives the way nothing to look forward to except horror every day. Ethnic groups everywhere fighting for their right looking after their families every day and night Days and nights in fear wondering when it will come not living in a fairy tale far from a beating drum. Children as young as five carrying weapons to kill education not an option edging for blood to spill. Parents in jail or dead no one to discipline the young left in a world of commotion whistling the tune as its sung. What is the answer? no one seems to know just statistics to quote as the hatred feeds to grow. We are all to blame safe in our own little World forgetting whats really going on while carnage and fighting unfurled. Look around what do you see? the youth ,going nowhere brushed under the carpet in a place were life isn't fair. CHILDREN OF WAR Please checkout MY PUBLISHED BOOKS Please checkout BLOG PROMOTIONS Please checkou...
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