The colour of your shirt does not determine your standing or standard of life,

Your position within a company does not make you who you are,

When describing one's self it is hard to not chronicle ones job,

Instead regale your sole and subsequent wisdom.

The 8 to 10hours a day you spend away not looking at reflection nor self-righteous meditation can leave you impatient yet waiting and ...

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Some context before you read is that I believe the colour blue is the most ethereal colour in the entire world so I decided to write a poem about it :)

Let the blue shine from within you.

My heart isn’t red it’s blue.

It pumps the freedom around my body,

Even when the world begins to look grotty.

The ocean, the sky, the colour of my eyes,

All represent a journey.

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I hailed a dream 

One dark night

To find myself 

In a place not right

My choices had 

Been taken away 

By a backward court 

Of the grand old ways!

The old wild west

Still held its sway

They said it was

Their country's way

The right to bear arms

Still had its freedom 

No matter how many

Kids were  bleedin'

And all LGBTQ

Had to w...

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Wanderer of wonderlands, 

always ready to gallivant 

around in utopias, where freedom

and euphoria are mandatory, 

where the reverie is sacrosanct;

tilting at windmills, pretending 

this is movement, and not a mere

standstill, eluding a reckoning

with reality, and with such alacrity

fostering the never-ending idyll...

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Keep the ship asail, boy

For one day you shall die

Beneath the whip & chains, boy

Your soul shall surely cry 

How dare you break those Shackles, boy!

Your slavery is your duty!

Get back down under decks, boy!

This is pure mutiny!

"Why do you throw me over, boy!"

"Cos, with freedom, boy, there comes much  joy!"

Definitely could be longer lol. But th...

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Longshank’s Primae Noctis

Favoured sport of overlord

Returning sullied to my husband, crying,

I grasp his battle sword,

Our Lord this nicht has defiled me 

My virginity tooketh, not giv’n,

Let’s pledge undying hatred afor him

Ne’er shall he e’er be forgiv’n.

Let us seek our retribution, with this sword I will unbleed him

My flower may be stolen, but he’ll ne’er tak my fr...

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(for my grandson)

Freedom is the imagination of a child,

Feelings flowing freely, stories running wild!

Uninhibited by life’s accountancy,

By endless dwelling on profit and loss, not yet

Hemmed in by grey stone walls or iron fences,

By petty quarrels or narrow self-interest.

A child’s imagination soars over such mundanity!

A life still to be lived, will not be so const...

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