William Sinclair Manson's poetry

He stands with a hole in his side the blood spurts over his pride puzzingly wondering why me? on display for the World to see. This time yesterday he loved life 2 grown kids and a loving wife,  employed in a security job His dad taught him, "don't be a slob". He feels his life draining away nobody bothered, nothing to say. The sky is blue birds singing sweetly buildings are uniformed, formatted neatly.  His eyes are beginning to close, his life flashes quickly blood runs from his nose, One mistake and he ended up here, struggling for life, surrounded by fear. But did he deserve this outcome today regretting the temptations among the foray, As he closes his eyes, his final breath, not ready to go, dodging his death. Then he sees a light, he is beckoned to go while he misses his family and little bro. No one deserves to die this way, hand in the knives and live for today. Please checkout MY PUBLISHED BOOKS Please checkout BLOG PROM...

I visit you regularly your still my mam your memory is faltering you think I am Pam. Your hair has turned gray you look somewhat older the staff are so clinical business like, cold shoulder You remember the times when you were a child but the present escapes you and it drives you wild. The outside is strange you cry when your out your constantly on medication what's this all about? Bedtime is a nightmare your mind wanders on you can't remember your kids from Jack to Dawn! Your Grandkids miss you especially your smile always asking for you every once in a while. You are still loved and cherished by family and friends and will be forever till the pain finally ends! memory loss man woman 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.

I cannot live like this for long not being able to have my own child I often dream of what might be If I had not been this wild. The opportunity came for me I couldn't resist this chance perhaps this would be the end of me a phase, a passing glance. Erika was the only life I had known I couldn't forgive what I had done her parents desperately frantic I had to cut and run. Five years passed Erika now 12 never knew who she really was I was the only mum she knew the woman she proudly applaused. I would have to die with this secret it tainted me day and night the pain I amassed from this nightmare knowing it was always in sight. The Police were all over my home  her father, bewildered in shock what was happening to my family? the open door was now to lock I did not care for her moms feelings I was only interested in me I knew my life would be happy it's all I imagined it to be. But now I am alone with my thoughts in a room filled with bars I never i...

Up at 6 another day comes time to get the kids up for school breakfast is always a chaotic time all for one,sometimes the rule. Toast for Johnny, cereal for Sue while dad shouts "were's my phone"? Tammy the cat mewing at my feet the kids all grump and groan?. ; Sue shouts aloud, cereal has spilled the dog licks his lips in delight Johnny complains, no lunch prepared Johnny Kicks Sue with spite. Get the kids dressed, iron a shirt turn the dishwasher on hubby groaning in the background at it from dusk till dawn. ; Breakfast is over, time to go dad drops the kids at school little Joan sits with her empty bowl at least one of them is full. Joan at nursery time for my chores the vacuum is ready to go dusting around the numerous bits and bobs forgot to wash the baby grow. ; Shopping to do, clothes to prepare the maintenance man is due sitting at home. freezing to death its a wonder I don't have the flu. ; The boiler packed in, no heat or water The usual drama of the...

An old woman cried all through the night, For she lost four sons in a bloody fight, Their voices still heard, in a distant past, Born so quickly, and died so fast. Fought for freedom, a right to survive, Worked so hard, to stay alive, Born in tyranny, starving and meek, Women and children, hungry and weak. Clansmen hunting around for food, The rest of his kin, gathering wood, Mud huts leaking, raining hard, Fires dying, wood is charred. Freedom distant, lives are lost, Counting the sacrifices, mourning the loss, One day they will sing, depression will lift, Hoping that God will shower his gift. Death shall be rewarded in a life of new, The old woman sad, lonely and blue Remembering her sons, who fought and tried, To make life better, and live with pride. Many more deaths, when will it end? For rights and freedom, in which we depend, will it come one day? it’s so far a dream, Where reality rules, in a slow running stream. The spirit is willing, the flesh is weak, But death ...