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Declan Mc Laughlin Poem
Who in their right mind, would set this out as life,
to live their days on edge, the edge of a sharpened knife.
I belong now to the streets, worn out and alone,
Looking from afar, I wonder to the warmth of home.
I think on my deeds for addiction, only for it to return,
the possibility of hell for me, for eternity to burn.
As I huddle here upon the street, I seem to cause you friction.
You, the world, pass me by without care or conviction.
In the days of old, when I was new to born,
you wished for me a life of full, just like Christmas morn.
But the days have passed, the stress etched upon my face,
soon I’ll be gone from here, gone without a trace.
Addictions don’t take lightly, alcohol, drugs or gambling,
for you may spend your life on darkened streets rambling.
I have 15 years on the street now, I think this to be true,
praying only for memories, of the family I once knew.
Instead, all I hear repeating, my addiction is the call,
I have no choice to answer, even though it caused my fall.
I wander on the streets now, all of them I know,
my rugged appearance illustrates, how badly this time does flow.
Maybe one day we will be united, all of us together,
spend our time in happiness, in the time of forever.
But for now I’ll continue on, through the streets so bold,
searching for the memories, that surely I must hold.
Copyright © Declan Mc Laughlin | Year Posted 2018
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Details |
Declan Mc Laughlin Poem
A horrible disease that seems to affect one and all.
We all know someone who’s succumbed to its fall,
for there are no limits to whom it may call.
To leave its patients so weary and weak,
leaving the days and nights ever so bleak,
through distant eyes we wonder, we seek.
The summer months become ever so cold,
we struggle with hope, even to hold,
never before, a disease so bold.
We watch your smile begin to fade,
reminiscing to the time of when we were made,
wondering why you, why you it did invade.
Chemo they say, to give you a chance,
I’m not so sure, you seem deeper in trance,
surely this medicine we must advance.
The time has come, that it makes clear,
my body trembles loudly, with all of this fear,
We hug one last time, you I hold so dear.
I will never forget you, of that you can be sure,
for you were so precious, loving and pure,
maybe one day I wonder, we will find a cure.
Copyright © Declan Mc Laughlin | Year Posted 2018
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Details |
Declan Mc Laughlin Poem
It is foolish to feel so good, you forget about before.
It is foolish to feel so bad, you might again explore.
It is foolish to feel anything, anything but your core.
It is foolish to feel this is easy, but you must implore.
A young man sits contently, smiling at his wife,
their children around them, seemingly distant from the previous life. Promotions at work are easy to come by now, well thought of, you see,
all payments made on time, irrelevant of the cost or fee.
These feelings of joy and happiness seem to continuously persist,
he questions, “is this me?”, this is not the way I used to exist.
He is not plagued by the memories of his past demeanour,
surprisingly, as for his meetings, he used to be a lot keener.
Maybe I could have one drink, it won’t be like the previous,
my thoughts of outlook, to me don’t seem as devious.
Could it possibly be, that I am addicted no more?,
is it worth the risk, to live the lonely life of before?.
These thoughts come to him in a constant drip,
feelings of joy and happiness start to fade and dip.
He makes his excuses and leaves the family room,
his wife and children blissfully unaware of his sharp change in tune.
In his head he remembers before, how he dealt with these feelings,
He’d drink them to the abyss, then he’d have no more dealings.
Head in hands in a darkened room, he sits on his own,
in less than 5 minutes his life has completely changed its tone.
He stumbles to his feet and hurries to his car for the questionable road, searching deep within his soul, the power to stop the self-will erode.
He drives to the place where he’ll find like-minded people,
for him their stories are protection, under the guardian steeple.
Copyright © Declan Mc Laughlin | Year Posted 2018
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