William Sinclair Manson's poetry

Why do we grow old and vain? complain about the economy mumble about the rain? suffer from sore joints hardly get around trying not to stumble struggling with Sounds. Running after children bailing out our kids vacuuming the carpets pots without their lids! Having to mind the steps just in case you fall memories so vivid getting harder to recall. Standing in long lines for money we are due worried what's on the tele sometimes feeling blue! Sleeping every moment you sit down on a chair wondering why your old and do people really care! Chatting to the neighbours having tea all day hoping as you age you still have things to say! Old age has its good points I can name a few sophistication and elegance the ability to chew. Honour and respect are ultimately yours playing with your grandchildren travelling on tours. Educating young folks giving them a chance playing them old records ...

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...

I'm invited to a dark place I think that I should go nothing here to keep me no room to blossom or grow. A place  dark and endless naked bodies all around deadened eyes blackened void of any sound. Walking on for miles nothing can be seen touching ice cold humans were have they been? The air is full of stench nothing wastes away living on forever no one wants to stay. Round and around we go no doors open here just the feeling of remorse dread and fear. The only time it ends is if your lucky to see the light but there's always something around you can never try to fight. I'm invited to a dark place I think I will not go as witnessed in my darkest hour I will continue to grow.