Poetry...

...a small collection for you.

Ip-Dip

Ip-dip sky blue,

Broke your neck too.

Climbed up too high,

Bitch, you can’t fly.

Unless...

Having an imaginary friend is sweet,

Unless…he steals from people in the street.

No-one can see him so you take the heat!

Having an imaginary friend is one big game,

Unless…he grafitti’s the school using your name.

There’s no doubt that you’ll take the blame.

Having an imaginary friend is all good,

Unless…your Dad’s shed is made completely from wood,

Now there’s only ash and black marks where it stood.

Having an imaginary friend is the best,

Unless…he pretends he’s from the wild west.

I guess you’ll always have that scar on your chest.

Having an imaginary friend is ace,

Unless…he turns out to be a nutcase.

Maybe it’s time you gave him some space.

Having an imaginary friend can give you cold sweats,

Especially…if his name is Damien and he killed all your pets.

At least your mum will save tonnes at the vets!

Having an imaginary friend was the bomb,

Until…you realised your deep connection.

When you saw his mad face in your reflection.

Meaning of Life?

Read a book, tell a tale. Sail away in your dreams. 

Plug in and let go, come apart at the seams.

Pretend you’re someone else. Dress up, play the part.

Take a toke, or two, and imagine you’re smart.

In the end you might even trick yourself to believe,

That you’re not really here, that you’ve managed to leave.

But if you awake and crash back down to Earth.

Remember we’re only here for rebirth.

To rise and expand, to fight and to fall,

To start from the top, repeating it all.

We won’t be remembered in cycles to come.

We’re here to do a job that will never be done.

The Unknown

Where the Moon collides with Earth

Is where you’ll witness my rebirth.

Beneath the black of an empty sky,

I’ll arrive, I’ll grow, I’ll thrive, I’ll fly.

Too soon, I’ll be gone. Forever lost.

In a lick of flame and a touch of frost.

Do not be eager to follow my lead.

A morbid yearn, a twisted need.

Mask

One man tells lies to his under age lover

Claiming he’s faithful, but slept with her mother.

Another takes from those he calls friends

None of them realise they’re a means to an end.

A young woman plots and forces the tears

So her story sounds straight to her media peers.

The boy who sits at the back during class

Is hiding a knife in his graffitied rucksack.

No-one suspects them, they look just like us

But they’re hiding secrets they refuse to discuss.

Ip-Dip, Unless..., Meaning of Life?, The Unknown and Mask are all copyright works of Lucy Holland. 24.01.2016