Month: July 2020

Pitter pater

Pitter patter

Rain was echoing throughout the old caravan a reminder of my depressing life

Happy birthday

He says

Stands, make a wish

He says

 

This face

This life

Is this all I will ever be?

A freak

 No one understands me

To every on I’m just…

A freak

If I had the chances I could do so much better

But I am stuck

 With this job

Like the animals

We travel with.

 

I blow out the candle

Gone –  like my life.

 

Is this all I will ever be?

A freak?

But for now the show must go on.

           Pitter patter

As the rain bashed against the floor and it had been

A stormy night

He was carving a piece of wood that looked like a

Bird

His dad slowly comes in and says

Happy birthday he says

Make a wish he says

I have a lot of wishes to say

To look good

To not look like a freak

And get treated like a dog

But I am trapped in this life

Like an elephant we travel with.

I had sat down and closed my eyes

And blow the hot candles out

But as well I am more than a freak

But for now….. the show must go on.

Pitter-patter

Pitter-patter

Rain hammers the poor window pains,

Our old caravan being beaten by the wind,

A miserable reminder of my life.

Wind thrashed backwards and forwards like my head.

Happy birthday he says.

Make a wish he says.

If he could go deeper.

This job,

This life,

This this face.

A wasted talent,

Gone.

I want to be free,

I am more.

But my ways of life are trapped.

I’m like a lion trapped in a cage.

Is this my life?

I inhale,

Blew the candle out,

The flame gone – like my heart.

Is this it?

Really?

I am more,

Than a freak?

I have a life,

One day I will live.

I will be free.

One day.

But for now…The show must go on.

Pitter- patter

Pitter- patter

Rain hammered down against the walls of my old rickety caravan,

A sad reminder of the life I’m living ,

The life I’m desperately trying to escape ,

 

Happy Birthday he says ,

Make a wish he says ,

His voice was a cup half full

That echoed through my head ,

Again ,

And Again

 

This face ,

This job ,

I have a talent

That no one will ever see ,

As I’m trapped  like a lion ,

I want to be free ,

 

I hid my despair as I blew out the candle,

The flame vanished like my chance of escaping this life ,

Will I ever be free ?

 

I will show them one day ,

When I make my own way in life,

And they will finally see,

That I’m more than a freak,

But for now … the show must go on .

Pittter-Patter

Pitter-patter

The rain dropped down from,

The perched window side,

As the boy sat on a rickety old wooden chair.

 

Happy Birthday ,he says

Make a wish ,he says

But only if he knew how hard it is

This face.

This job.

This odd talent wasted.

I’m craving my freedom!

I demand to live my life!

I wish to be a human!

I value much more.

But I’m here trapped,

I’m here, here in this abyss hole,

Like the animals hurt and broken.

I snap back,

And blow out the candles.

The flame vanished.

Is this it?

Is this how I’m going to continue to live?

Is this how I’m going to be –  forever lonely?

I hope one day,

They will realize that,

I’m more than just a-a,

F-FREAK!

One day I’ll carve a path for myself as beautiful as the wooden figures I create.

But for now… the show must go on.

Pitter-patter.

Pitter-patter.

Torrents of rain banged against the windows of the caravan,

A heart-breaking,painful life I am living,

Wind dances and twirls in side of my head,

Happy birthday he says,

Make a wish he says,

If only he knew…

My face.

My job.

To show my talent.

A new sweater, perhaps…

To be one of them,

Am I so much more?

I can show them,

But can I really?

I am trapped in in this darkened life,

Like the tigers we travel with-

Caged and broken…

I inhale once more,

I blew out the candle,

The flame was extinguished like my life…

Is that it?

Will I ever change?

I’m worth so much more,

I’m not a freak!

One day i will carve my own path out,

like I do with my beautiful carvings,

But for now the show must go on…

Drop,Drop

Drop,Drop

The rain stains the window as

The depression stains my life.

The wind whistled like the creaking

Of my door.

 

Hello son, he said

Happy birthday,he said

Make a wish,he said

If only he knew what more

I could be.

 

My feeling,

My face,

My job,

It was a wast of my time

And my talent.

I want to be free.

I want not to be called a freak.

I’m worth more,

I need more

 

I’m trapped like the elephants we travel with.

 

I inhale,

I blow,

Letting the candles go out like my,

Hope and pride

 

I’m more than a freak !!