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The Tramp

Cold as ice
there he sat

Dreaming about
this and that,

Of what could
have been

If  he’d stayed
within the social scene

Each night his
shadow lies under the lamp,

He is
identified as the local tramp

The park is his
home,

Nowhere else to
roam

No hidden
agenda

Or anyone to
care for,

No personal
appointments to keep

No people at all 
to  meet

No-one to
explain to when he isn’t there,

No sacrifice to
bare

The owls watch
over him at night

Under the lamp
in the moonlight,

Where empty
beer cans surround him

Next to the
rubbish in the bin

The tramp that
wants to be alone,

And to leave
his identity unknown

By Gillian Sims

TORMENTORS – Promote Yourself

bedroommmmmm

Go back to sleep my dear

that is what they always say
it was all just a bad dream
or perhaps light casting shadows from the window.

Go back to sleep my dear

do they not see?
do they not hear what I hear?
I just want them to stop

Go back to sleep my dear

dream pleasant dreams
as if I have control?
it is when I am awake at night that I am most afraid anyway

Go back to sleep my dear

everything will be alright in the morning
they do not understand
morning may not arrive for me

Yes, I will go back to sleep

perhaps to join my tormentors in their obvious agony
for an eternity of crying out at night
as if woken from a horrible dream

I will go back to sleep

maybe then they will see and hear
and I will whisper from the grave
go back to sleep my dears……….

Hope you all enjoy. I am truly having fun expressing myself through my darker imagination. Drop by my blog anytime.
JMC813.wordpress.com.

JMC here again. While being my second post to poetree creations, this was my first effort at poetry for the public.
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and until then, keep writing

JMC

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