Look at you.

Look at me.

Look at us.

We are just a speck in the universe, yet we dominate the earth.

The land is teeming with us like bees in a hive.

A few hundred years ago, we were still figuring out life; trying to uncover its many complex layers, but look at us now.

We went too far, pushing boundaries not meant to be pushed, using up what was supposed to last for generations to come.

We broke down what stood tall and crushed it beneath our feet like nothing ever happened.

Look at us now.

We built our villages, our towns and cities.

We built our stores, our companies and manufacturers.

We built machines that effect things like climate change and other people’s lives, and what for?

So look at you.

Look at me.

Look at us.

A frail old man sat on a bench, motionless.

In his cupped hands were flowers.

Red flowers.

Red flowers the colour of lipstick and rubies.

Those flowers held memories of joy and happiness, they held memories of distant pleasures.

Memories of her.

But she was gone.

A salty tear spilled onto his cheek, which was crinkled like a shirt that wasn’t ironed.

All around him, people of all ages chattered and laughed, enjoying themselves with not a care in the world.

Hurriedly, he wiped away the tear with the sleeve of his tatty coat, but it was too late.

More tears streamed down his face, turning from a sniffle into a sob.

He held held his head in his hands, covering up his face from everyone around him.

“Excuse me.” Said a small voice.

Surely I’m hallucinating. The old man thought.

The voice came again.

“Excuse me.”

The man looked up, and to his surprise, a young boy no more than five to six was standing in front of him.

He blinked in confusion as the boy opened his mouth to speak.

“My family and I were just having lunch in the park,” the boy waved his hand in the direction of some picnic benches, “and we thought you looked rather lonely. Would you like to join us?”

“I-I couldn’t possibly.” He whispered hoarsely.

“Of course you could.”

Placing his smooth hand in the mans rough ones, he gently pulled the man to his feet.

When the man was standing up, he turned around and placed the flowers on the bench.

Then, hand in hand, the pair walked over to one of the picnic benches stacked with food.

Chatting away, the little boy was unaware to the difference he was making to the mans life, to the mans hope, to the mans spirit.

One by one, the boy introduced the man to his family, making him feel like a part of something again.

He laughed again, he smiled again, he lived again.

My Dog

Wet nose.

Sparkling eyes.

That’s my dog.

Velvety fur.

Small paws.

That’s my dog.

Perky attitude.

Cheerful smile.

That’s my dog.

The cow waited for the bus, while others made a fuss.

The grass was always green ’cause the gardeners were keen.

The bus driver honked his horn, while passengers started to mourn.

The gardeners kept on pruning, but natures efforts they were ruining.

The cow boarded the bus, and stop did the fuss.

The grass turned yellow, turns out the gardener wasn’t a good fellow.

The bus driver stopped his honking, while the passengers gave him a bonking.

The gardeners stopped pruning, and instead started looning.

The cow got off the bus, and did not make a fuss.

The year 2790

The earth is corrupted.

What was once a bountiful land was now nothing but dreary.

We hadn’t given the earth a thought, and had tossed it away as if it were nothing but a dirty tissue.

Every day, people march around the land, their eyes blind to the destruction we’ve caused, their heads held high with arrogance.

Everyone’s mouth was set in grim lines, with their backs hunched over.

Every persons mind was trapped inside a bubble of twisted ways.

It was the year 2790, and the earth was corrupted.

The night sky was the colour of tar, enclosing the town in a cloak of darkness.

Stars were sprinkled in the sky like jewels on a crown.

Every person was snuggled up in bed, with the sandman watching over their dreams; all except one.

A small girl was wondering the dark streets, shivering in the chilly night air.

There was no use for her to go to bed, she didn’t have one, or any parents to love her.

The streets were her home.

As she passed an alleyway, she heard a whimper come from within it.

Her instincts were to keep walking, but it was as if a force of nature was dragging her to the source of the sound.

Turning sharply on her heel, she started to make her way down the alley way.

Out of nowhere, some kind of nocturnal bird let out a brutal screech, making her quicken her pace.

When she was halfway down the alleyway, she stopped abruptly and strained her ears.

There it was again, that strange whimpering noise.

She looked to her left.


She looked to her right.


The odd noise was coming directly from a cardboard box that was falling apart.

The girl crept up to the box and quickly flipped it open.

Nestled inside it was a tiny puppy, trembling in the cold.

The puppy looked up at the girl, it’s eyes shining brightly.

The girl lent down to stroke the dogs shaggy coat, her eyes glistening with tears.

The small creature nuzzled it’s nose into her hand, and her face broke into a wide grin.

She picked up the dog and held it close to her chest in a warm embrace.

She closed her eyes and spun around with joy.

She had a new companion.

A young girl stood at the edge of a lake, transfixed.

The still water was covered in a thick blanket of fog, blocking any signs of life.

Motionless, a tear spilled onto her pale cheek. Her face set in stone, her jagged breaths punctures the eerie silence around her.

With her face set in stone, her jagged breaths punctured the eerie silence around her.

The single tear turned in many, pouring down her face like a waterfall, dripping onto her cotton frock, patching it with damp spots.

The girl turned, and took a step before turning back around to face the lake.

The corners of her mouth lifted ever so slightly upwards, as if she was trying to muster a smile that couldn’t be held back.

Facing back away from the lake, she walked briskly away.



Everyone moving

Around you



Everyone talking

Around you



All alone

In this world


Close your eyes and listen.

All around you are things that may look good, but did you ever think if they sound good?

It takes patience, and just the right moment, but if you try, your senses will kick in, and you can hear the things all around you.

Close your eyes and listen.

Beauty, perfection, fame

No pain no gain

Wishing herself away

She knew she couldn’t stay

Life looked perfect

But was it worth it?

Suffering every day

Being wasted away

Roman Times

When I open my eyes, an instant uneasiness fills me.

I turn to the world known coliseum only to look away again to spare my eyes from the blood and gory.

A shiver runs down my spine as the sound of shrieks and bellows from the gladiator fans reverberate through my mind.

The smell of exquisite wines and breads waft down from houses with rich inhabitants.

As these smells taunt my nostrils, a pang of hunger hits me like a tidal wave.

Taking one last glance at all the sights around me, I turn on my heels and march out of there.

Emptiness Slam Poem

Emptiness, it surrounds you, fogging up your mind like smoke from a fire, enclosing people in its wrath of emptiness.

Swirling thoughts lock yourself from seeing the bright side, they block you from hearing the right side, emptiness.

When emptiness takes control, of all of you, and your soul, it seems as if people around you are ignoring, blocking, shutting you out, when really that’s not true; you are the one who is ignoring, blocking, shutting them out.

They feel hurt and useless because you are so wrapped up in all the emptiness inside you, you are so wrapped up in the monster you have unleashed upon yourself.


It makes you do terrible things, think terrible things, and have the appearance of a lonely, miserable person, only aware of the things in life not worth living for, not thinking about the things in life that bring you joy and pleasure.

When people start to see the light, start to see the brightness, they reach to it, only to be pulled back down into the pits of emptiness.

What if they don’t like me? What if they don’t care? All these thoughts rush through your head with the sole pupose of filling you with emptiness.

Sadness, depression, loneliness, they all hold you back, stoping you short of your full potential, spreading what is private and confidential.

Emptiness, making you feel like your nothing, when really, emptiness is nothing.

Emptiness is not a thing until you allow it to be; so next time you see that light, that little glimmer of hope, pull it down, hold it tight, and tell yourself that your alright.

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