PAIN AND NO GAIN
Suffocation rises within,
The life dragged out of him.
It is not forced,
Because of all their,
Others deny his existence,
Thinking of a circus freak.
A bridge too great a distance,
That is out of his reach.
Darkness surrounds him,
Hope is grim.
To have been shun,
The light is dim.
The end near,
And death certain,
Drowning with fear,
And closing the curtain.
The same person who claims to empower you,
You ask to go to the toilet.
The same person who preaches about creativity,
Takes it back by limiting you to one genre.
The sound of the bell, on Friday noon.
The liberation of it’s prodigy
The dome of control lifted.
The limit is less
Engaging the student
To give with one hand,
And take back with the other.
‘A prelude to life’
Listen out to the world
For a positive message that can be served
The messages can often seem fake
And the meaning can can be deemed opaque
There is a small window to reform
The wildered world we caused to be a storm
Our negative consumption of materials
And constant result of burials
Of people we don’t know
But will eventually end in growth
Away from our never ending taking
And will transform into giving
Unless our leaders of power
Continue to devour
This everlasting reprise
Continues to demise.
after the sound of the gun goes
breathing the cold air in my nose.
racing around the track
my heart beating so fast its about to crack.
cross the finish line
now were finished til next time.
I used to be different than the people
alone but strong like an eagle
but people called me a weasel
because I wasn’t the same
they all called me insane
I had my hobbies that others found strange
they told me that I needed to change
and I did
I became the kid
that everyone wanted me to be
now I’m not the same
now…I’m full of shame
for not being who I am
at this point it feels like a scam
this is my life in a nutshell.
the bells ring its time for class
the teachers nice he’s fairly class
books out ready to learn
everyone reads when it comes to your turn
everyone’s happy to be out of the house
the smell of freedom coming from everones snouts
now i have to go back home
back my dark hole
Constantly being compared
to my smart brothers even though im thick.
Not allowed to drop out of school
because my brothers never did.
Drafted away on a sleepless night
On my bed thinking bright,
Scary thoughts running through my head
Thinking about all of my dread
It’s knot that eye haven’t studied, often till late at knight
Butt the rules are sew confusing, eye simply can’t get them write
School is such an awful place
Thinking of moments i cant embrace
I lie down to see endless sheep
I guess I’m going back to sleep
We live in a world where masks are the norm,
Under the masks it is far too warm,
But in the class it is far too cold,
It is getting old.
All this talk of dividers,
It has got my head spinning faster than the Hadron Collider,
And all of these types of wipes,
I have so many gripes.
Of course we get all the blame,
It is really lame,
It seems as if that’s their aim.
Now this is all the norm,
As much as a school uniform.
When was the last time you tried something new,
living day to day with the same routine and same problems,
”Oh i should get out more,
i should quit drink,
i should stop smoking…”
but to get that willpower,
that motivation is one of the hardest challenges in life you will face,
Get out and experiment,
Like you are meant.
We live in a society where masks are the norm,
I feel I’ve been drugged with chloroform
From the plastic dividers,
To the drinking of cider
I feel I’m being controlled,
And that i have to break the mould
But it isn’t that easy,
When you feeling uneasy
But i don’t know what to do,
I’m feeling kinda blue.
Our Daily Blur
Wake up in the morning
Everydays the same
Fighting through the struggle
Fighting through the pain
I go to bed at night
And dread my alarm
For a new days come to bite
But the same things come to strike
Trying to find peace
Inside a constant life-like tumble
The nagging and the noise
Inside a constant life-like rumble
“Put on your mask”
“Sit on your chair”
“Your lazy, your useless”
They are pulling out our hair.
But we learn to live
We adapt and overcome
It’s not always our fault
You just need to open your eyes, see and act less glum.
The Simple Joy of Creating
Sometimes I draw, doodle or write,
Though I feel I don’t do them right,
But saying this with honesty,
I don’t care for the quality.
I don’t anticipate employment,
I just do it for enjoyment,
There’s no quality to measure,
If I’m doing it for pleasure.
My vocal quality is quite low,
I can’t sing like Barry Manilow,
But I choose to sing all-the-same,
Because it makes me merry and tame.
So although it’s true, my choir skills,
Make me seek and desire skills,
I’ll continue to sing or write,
Because these things can bring me delight.
Every day I hit the hay
I wake up in the morning
Hit my clock upon the top
When I’m up I cook
Every day is the same
Roll up on the block
Go to school not so cool
Look up on the clock
Get home do a poo
Daze all day
Hit the hay
Wake up in the morning
Every day is the same.
A Covid-19 Story
There’s a place called Wuhan,
It’s there after Afghanistan,
It’s Not That Close,
But they gave us a dose,
And Told Us Get in to our car,
Head home for six months,
Or it will be the guards you confront,
Schools were rejected,
As we were all getting infected,
Pub owners were getting thick,
Because of them we were all getting sick,
Sports were not a runner.
As some people think zoom quizzes are funner,
House parties are off because of Code-19,
Follow the advice or your gaff will be a crime-scene.
Time flies when your having fun
But as i count the the seconds,minutes and hours
The fun i had was none
The cuts on my skin are to remind
me of the times i left behind
But as they cure
Im almost sure
Theres brightness in this world
Scoring goals all day long
Kicking the ball like king kong
Dribbling past players
As they say their prayers
Doing tricks and my little flicks
While other players are shitting bricks
Pinging passes and slapping asses
Braking lads up as we build up
Few minutes away now
As we get the ball somehow.
Dribbling into the box
While looking at clocks
With minutes to play
This game turns into d-day
The end is near
We are winning 2-1
Lifting the cup after time is up
We will go up up up.
Where i am from
I come from teachers that don’t care
To a school system that isn’t fair
From pointless algebra and verbs
To once we leave, being kicked to the curbs
From not even knowing how to submit taxes
To harsh words from teachers cutting through us like axes
And when we are finished
All our creative and ambitious goals are diminished.
My School Routine
Every day I wake up at 7:30am for school, and it is very tiring getting up at this time for 5 days a week.
I just don’t want to get up but going to school is law and I don’t have a choice
I arrive at school at 8:15am normally and get prepared for my first class at
I then go through 9 draining classes during the day until 3:30pm and there is
a bit of relief with a half day on a Wednesday where we finish at 1:30pm.
My Weekend Routine:
On the weekend, I have a lot of freedom and I can get up at whenever I want
I normally wake up at 9am but sometimes I oversleep and stay in until 10am or
To be honest, the weekend sometimes feels like a school day except the
If I have homework to do during the weekend, it feels so draining and I need to
pull that motivation out of me to do that homework
Wake up in the morning
bright and early
another day of school
where everybody speaks unfairly
each day like Deja vu
whilst being told school works for you.
Every day brings a new wave of instant regret
taking in information that in an hour you will forget.
Then the bell rings and a touch of freedom
is so good for such a simple thing
Away you go back home with no delay
as that school knowledge just faded away.
Listen up heres a little story
Living on the streets since i was 13
Growing up with parents constantly smoking green
Getting hit with a bursted spleen
And a broken hip
Sneaking in an abandoned kip
See the guards we abandoned ship
Living my life is a big RIP.
Xbox Party Chat
When I’m at home, I sit in front of the TV.
Playing FIFA ultimate team.
I’m alone, but still slagged by a screen.
Since I came home I haven’t seen my family.
My brother doesn’t know me.
I only hear my sister scream.
Doesn’t matter to me.
I’m in a party chat with the boys.
Sport is my passion
It lifts me out a pit of depression
It gives me a sense of pride
Even though I reside
In a pool of insecurity
When I play it gives me immunity
Of the anxiety and stresses of life
That cause me internal strife.
You spend 250 million
You expect to win,
Instead Callum Robinson throws Zouma in the bin,
Kepa needs a kick in the face,
Choking leads at incredible speeds,
Defenders can’t defend,
Strikers can’t score,
Everyday I ask myself,
Why did I chose them?