New Poem - 'The walking wounded'


Okay,  So not the most upbeat of my Poems, but it's that time of year, and I know there are a lot of people feeling this. 

The walking wounded. 



People say that I’m often smiling, but I’m just tired of trying, and inside I’m dying.
I think of those that I’d thought I’d be sharing a story, But I’m forgetting what they look like, and now I’m losing the memory.
What’s the point in chasing folk, that have no interest in knowing me.

When nonses and wrong un’s get much better forgiveness, and then comes Christmas, the constant reminder that you’re just not good enough to be around.
Not good enough for weekly chats, to share our stories and know each other.
I was hoping that by now in time that I’d get stronger, but it just don’t work like that.


Englands fucked, I know I’m not the only one that’s feeling like this, speak up if you dare, cuz it’s not being in care that kills you, but the many years after of still feeling rejection.

Your strong when your young, sure you have you're confused moments of going berserk, but in time it gets worse, if it don’t heal.
Maybe best to close the lid, stop feeling like this and accept the words that have been spoken to you.

“Our family will never be normal” in protest I hear, and are the words I’m replied when you tell them it hurts.
No desire for solutions, they all have each other, whilst you’re on the outside looking in.
 So for those like me, who just wanted to be a part of their own family, and don’t know why it’s all like this, then I truly understand and for you I am sorry.

Not everyone will understand this regular pain, that really does in the end drive you insane.

Not many folk have truly got to where they are on their own, everyone needs a little support from those back at home.
But when they hardly know you, and there’s never any advice, no wonder so many folk then turn to a vice.
So yeah this is England, I don’t care about the weather, but if you reject your own family, then get your act together.



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