Poetry

A thought experiment: what if my garden became my bin? I cannot remember when I first became conscious about the notion that rubbish does not cease to exist after it is sent away. Regardless, since this moment of realisation, I have never been able to get the thought out of my head. Every time…

When the weather outside is magicalLaughter fills the air My younger self I see playingSnow scattered on tiny wisps of hairHer smile so wide not a careA feeling so fleeting, so rareOh how life seems so simple down there When the weather outside is magicalReality can hold on a minute For now there is…

My ambition soars, cut By the anxious thought How can this be fair All opportunity and invested care Into me and yet I crumble It’s only the first hurdle The battle up there I care I swear Enough to starting pulling out my hair As opposed to jotting down my thoughts The jumbled tangle…