- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Glass Houses
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Looking out of the goldfish bowl
At a world which says "I'm it".
But somehow looking inside out
How did the inside become so big?
Trapped with words,
Bursting out of every pore
With a violence and explosion,
Creating a mess of anger on the floor
It's sunny outside,
Sounds of life, spring and people pour in.
The pain of glass deadens the hearing
Of those who choose to see nothing.
Life keeps on growing everywhere,
Groaning, silent screams
Of relentless, onwards, forwards and upwards,
Pushing towards those dreams.
The dream shatters,
All around is splintered glass
Ready to bloody the feet
Of those who walk past.
All alone, sat in the twilight,
Looking out of the window.
What remains of those shattered dreams
Is collected and put into a bowl.
A bowl that is looked at and watched,
The things that might have been.
Polarised by constant inspection,
But fading to nothing as night draws in.
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