Vulnerable

Around our heads.
The flowers fall.
Crowning, yearning.
This history of touch.
Memory of want.
Speckles the skin.
Compressed by time.
Lost by lies.
Rusted and old now.
Tired, like a dream.
Once sold.

12/08/202111/08/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: hurt, lies, lossTags: art, care, dream, flowers, hurt, lies, loss, poem, Poetry, sad, time 4 Comments

Lair of a liar

Cheap and nasty, true and bold.
Tales of hiding, fears untold.
Spring out of mouths that should be closed.
Locked in brains too old to know.
Gestate in places dark and hidden.
Finding victims so equally ridden.
For what you give is what you get.
What goes around, lest we forget.

30/07/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: karma, lies, lifeTags: art, bad, brains, choices, karma, lies, life, mask, Old, people, poem, Poetry, rhyme, rotten 5 Comments

Seems forever lost?

We do not fade when you close your eyes.
Etched in stone, carved in lies.
Beneath those words please sympathise.
Something starts, when something dies.

And though it seems we’re miles apart
I commit to god for the pain to depart.
When megaliths fall, freedom starts.
And so will heal, your blackened heart.

08/09/201908/09/2019 by Mark Ryan Categories: eyes, freedom, heart, lies, PoetryTags: active, art, change, darkness, death, departure, dies, eyes, freedom, heart, hurt, lies, lost, megaliths, pain, poem, Poetry, rhyme, start 4 Comments