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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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A PRISONER IN HER OWN HOME.

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Colourful  prisms of light set free from blackened cracked glass forcing the darkness to illuminate allowing an aroma of cut grass. She never leaves her home imprisoned within four walls no one ever gets inside feeling bound by a chain and ball. A woman who once held respect heavily into charity by day a pillar of the community people listened to what she would say. Many years passed in her life tragedy struck many times family passed away, friends moved on her son sent down for crimes. Now her life was empty her interest declined by day nothing would get through to her at home she was forced to stay. Doctors tried in vain to get her to leave her house a frail, aged woman as quiet as a mouse. She felt she was misunderstood no one knew how she felt her illness killing her at speed of which she was unwillingly dealt. The fear to leave her house finally took its toll her heart gave up the battle the final drum roll.
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GROWING OLD GRACEFULLY.

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Growing old can take its toll your body slows right down you can't do things you used to do frustrated, you just frown. You remember when you were a lad things you did were brave swinging from the highest tree six inches from your grave. Back then you could run, fast play ball forever and a day sleep would come when it had to your hair was natural,  not Gray. They say the new fifty is forty in this new millennium but sometimes it doesn't work that way your not at your premium. Your bones creak, your neck gets sore bending down is sometimes a task you try your best to live younger while reaching for your mask! To be healthy you need to be careful you may deal yourself a blow like cutting the old nails on your unreachable big toe. When you shower and glance at your figure its not as it used to be the muscles are getting flimsy and you struggle to properly see. Some people grow old gracefully just accept it as it comes growing old isn't necessarily a draw back or receding...
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https://hubpages.com/literature/AN-INTERVIEW-WITH-BRITISH-POET-AND-HUMORIST-WILLIAM-MANSON
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WELCOME

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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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