Poetry for all 2015.

It's a strange old day.

It's a strange old foggy, misty and depressing January day, it's been like this all day.
I wake up this morning to see frost on the roofs of houses and on cars.
Then all I could see is white in the sky like a sheet flying by.
Later on the white sky turned to black as if the back houses were fading away into the foggy mist.
The white sky was like a block of ice as it changed from black to white, it was only just after 4.00pm.
With no leaves on the trees it's looked like a proper winter's day. 4.1.2015


Oh these winter Misty nights.

It' so hard to tell fog from mist, mist to fog.

It's seems so dark to see a thing yet there are hazes of mist by the hidden back houses by the street lights.

All I can see is bear trees by the chimney pots of the houses.

Drafts are coming under the doors. 4.1.2015

The Unknown.

Hard to explain and not to believed.

May be I didn't understood in a way adults understood.

Nevertheless they have got away with what they have done, there were adults there.

When it comes to being a child what's not seen is never believe like you seen and not heard.

Still lived through I pulled through but it doesn't make it right that it should happen.

Some how, some way I managed to get by each day in the best way.

Most shocking and unforgettable memories in the so hard to forget no matter how hard you try to do so, even after thirty-five years.

School may have let me down but adult life hasn't been so bad. 2.1.2015

Give a voice for all.

We were seen but not heard.

We were  far too young to know what was going on.

How do we draw the line with such a subject?

This is a tricky one.

Children shouldn't know but they should if it's happening to them.

There again yes, how do we balance that with children growing up fast?

Adults should be more responsible to know what's going on round the schools.

It's not though always the case that adults can be to blame children to other children. 

Let's learn from the past to build the future. 5.1.2015

This is poetry.

This is poetry.

This is words from the mind.

This poetry about life.

This poetry about education.

This is poetry about people.

This is poetry about places.

 This is poetry about everything that possibly could be.

Just tell me the words then I will write them.

I just think of words and I write them. 4.1.2015

This is my ability.

Needing support with every day living skills is my disability.

My talent, my drawing, painting and poetry is my ability.

My job helping others worse off than me is my ability.

In the end I'm as human as you.

Only that I'm a slower learner than you. 4.1.2015

Poetry.

Poetry is power.

Poetry is voice.

Poetry is choice.

Poetry is you.

Poetry is me.

Poetry is a way of expressing thoughts and feelings in a different way to talking.

Poetry is thoughts in the mind and feelings inside. 5.1.2015

Your beauty.

Your beauty isn't just what you look like but the kind of person you are.

You may not have as much beauty in looks but you do inside.

You may not have much beauty inside you do in looks.

Beauty can vary so much.

Never judge the book by it's cover.

Sorry for swearing but it's the bloody truth but then if we were all the same what a boring world it would be.

Beauty is also being kind to one another. 5.1.2015