Breaking the Illusion

At times you sit

In the darkness wondering,

What is it that I’m hearing?

What is it that I’m seeing?

Is this a vision,

is this a message

that I’m meant to be receiving?

While I sit and wonder

Can anyone else

Hear these words

That are echoing in my head,

Or see the epiphanies

Dancing, shaking,

Falling before my eyes?

Do you see what I see?

Do you hear what I hear?

These voices swarming

Inside my head,

Thoughts that are mangled,

Or incomplete,

Screaming for attention,

To be heard,

To be seen,

To be shaped and moulded

And put into a message

To give to someone else.

To give to those

in need of answers.

To give to those of

You who can’t see

what’s in front of you!

Where you see peace,

I see destruction.

Where you see fun,

I see self-harm

Much more violent

than hidden acts

in your room when

you feel nothing at all

and much more damaging

than a sharpened blade.

It’s standing in front

Of you screaming

In your face,

Wake up and see

All The damage that

you’re doing,

not just to yourself,

but to all those

around you.

Your way of life,

A constant pursuit of joy,

In vain as you’ll

Never find it where

You like to look.

Open your eyes and

Picture it if you can,

An endless cycle

That you don’t want

To escape from,

Trapped like the line

Forming the edge of

a circle,

destined to go round

till you’re as long

as a piece of string.

Do you see an end?

Do you see a goal?

Why even bother

If week in week out,

You do the same thing.

Make money,

Spend it.

Labour for money,

Throw it away.

Painstakingly earn

A handful of pennies

Just to fund another lap

Around you’re closed

Circuit track.

Take heed and notice

Before it’s too late.

Listen to the voices.

Accept what you see.

Change your ways

Before you drag everyone else

Who’s following Your lead

To their own dark room

And leave them there

To find the light

Switch for themselves.

Look closely now

At what’s in front of you.

Look past the illusion

Presented by those

Who are also misguided.

Listen to that voice

Speaking inside your head

And now tell me

If you see what I see.


What We’re Here For

A kookaburra, strong and free,

Comes to be fed as if in captivity,

Even thought it can live off of the land,

It comes to be fed by human hand.


God put man on this earth,

To take care of his animals from their birth,

So even though animals can live on their own,

They rely on humans, even when they are fully-grown

Not to provide them with their food and needs,

But to look after their habitats and lives, as this kookaburra feeds.

Making Sense of it All

Gone are the days

When things made

Perfect sense.


When we are young,

All we need to understand

Are the basics of math,

What games to play at lunch,

Where we can

And couldn’t go,

What we can

And can’t do.


Then we grow up.

Things become complicated.

Things start happening.

Now, not much makes sense



We try to comprehend

The things that happen,

Adding things together

That maybe shouldn’t be added

To get wrong conclusions,

And adding other things

To give us partial answers.


Time is spent

Fighting for logic,

For things to be ordered.


But when one question

Is answered,

Another takes its place


Heart and mind

Once more.


As we try to figure out

Why things happen

Or how they happened,

We can become conceited,

As we attempt to understand

The humanity around us,

As we search

For what is hidden

Right in front of us.


It soon gets to a point

Where we wonder

“Is it worth it?”

But push on anyway

As the reality we saw

Crumbles to dust.


All that is left behind

Is a table top,

Covered in scratches

That were made

In a vain attempt

To make sense

Of the world.

Disturbing Image

An Elderly lady

Enjoys her coffee and hashbrown,

As she reads the paper

In a McDonalds, sitting down.

There’s nothing wrong

With this image I see,

And yet something about it

Keeps bothering me.

I can’t put my finger

On whatever it is,

As it sends my head

Into quite the tizz.

I keep thinking and thinking

About what it could be

About this image

That is bothering me,

Yet I come up

With no answers

As they slip away

Like well-trained dancers.

Is it the fact

That she’s in a McDonalds

Instead of a café

Without several Ronalds?

Or is it because

I am there too?


Sitting at a table

Eating for some reason,

When I could be somewhere else

Enjoying the season.

Instead I am sitting

In a corner alone

Away from everyone else there,

All on my own.

Maybe it is

That I am there too.


Maybe it’s not

The lady that’s bothering me

But more the fact

That I’m there to see,

As I sit there

Without any clue.

The Night

The dark night sky

Can make one’s heart flourish,

Whilst another shrivels.


Peace and quiet carries the echoes of life,

Whilst someone wakes

From a world of dreams.


A cold breeze blows through,

Carrying with it memories of the past.

Memories of loved ones

Long gone,

And of those waiting.


As the sun rises,

One thinks of what’s to come,

Of what one wants to happen,

And of what they have to do.

Infinite Possibilities

So many questions,

so many possible answers.

The unknowns of life,

plaguing curiosity.


A journey for answers,

trying everything possible.

Trying to solve a mystery

without turning into a monstrosity.



never knowing for sure

If what you know or think

is fact or fiction.

Doubt creeps in,

filling the mind with fantasies of truth or lies,

Bringing one closer to paranoia,

when knowing becomes an addiction.