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Saturday, 8 January 2011

Holding An Angel


 Like jaggered, rusty copper nails
Hammered, with malice, into my skin
My heart is bleeding with raw pain
Tearing me apart, agony resides

To love and face your selfish abandonment
Of the woman you tried to share your soul
But the morbid fear of the past came creeping
And you pushed away without knowing the game

Never seeming to realise that to you, she is beauty
That in the eyes of others, her beauty also shines
You tried so hard to keep her, but you used a cage
Only to feel her slip away because she needs to be free

This man has loved and lost, for this must be the last time
When you have perfection and allow it to slowly slip past
Like the ice cold water that runs through your fingers
If you hold on to an Angel too long, it will fly away


copyright Chris smith 2011

Friday, 7 January 2011

Anonymous

Working hard, with no time to play
Invisible in shadows, that never go away
Busy all through the night, never seeing day
Seeing so much misery, left in my dismay

A difficult job where nobody sees me
Hospital porter running on empty
A voice that always rings out silently
Never time to rest, for time to be free

So many patients, moved like cattle on the go
All through the long night, going to and fro
Even those, with names we will never know
Taken to a mortuary, chills me to my soul

Nurses and Doctors, seen at the front line
Rewarded with thanks which is very fine
Anonymous are Porters, this job is mine
We would be the grapes that help make the wine

So spare us a thought for the hard work we do
Taking you to another ward, looking after you
We never stop, all these hours we work through
So many different duties, if only you knew



copyright Chris Smith 2011

Wednesday, 5 January 2011

Miracle Street

Taking a journey, talking a walk
So many people ready to meet
They always listen, they always talk
When you come down to Miracle Street

Sweet old lady, her name is Mandy
For years she has lived out here
Children visit, they always get candy
Because there is no danger or fear

Policeman by the name of Paul
Always sharing with you a witty rhyme
For him you will never have to call
For here there never is any crime

Over there is where lives Doctor Phil
Ready to help you when you need him
But it is so lucky nobody ever gets ill
And the Doctor always smiles and never gets grim

Teenagers help the elderly to get across the road
And the traffic never drives way too fast
Never any fights, everyone holds someones hand
There is a special peace that always will last

Taking a journey, talking a walk
So many people ready to meet
They always listen, they always talk
When you come down to Miracle Street




copyright Chris Smith 2011

Tuesday, 4 January 2011

Germany

Grand country of much inside
Enduring with a gentle pride
Ready to play the great game
Marking football with a name
And music plays for all
Nations hear the songs call
Yet there is still more to come




copyright Chris Smith 2011

Monday, 3 January 2011

Close My Eyes

Do you know how it feels
To be able to surrender
To the feeling of bliss to dream
And escape into required slumber

Alas, that luxery eludes me now
Sleep refuses to come, to welcome me
Only the shadows between these eyes
Shackle me to the damnation of pain

Trying to give in to what never comes
Just the bitterness of a thousand needles
Invisible daggers penetrating my skin
Never allowing me a moment of peace

How many times do I have to beg
For the pleasure of closing my eyes
No pill takes away that edge
It remains with the passing of time

This body seems to want to betray me
Agony searing through these veins
The days, nay, the years are difficult
Just let me close my eyes this once





copyright Chris Smith 2011

Sunday, 2 January 2011

Where Angels Sit

Distant stars shine in the night sky
Like glittering diamonds way up high
Do you wonder who is up there
Maybe a being than loves to care

Maybe they know not the meaning of war
Or they are not inflicted with a flaw
Where they would never judge those differently
That are classified disabled that people see

They might not call them names and mock them
Walk on by as if they are ready to condemn
Maybe they never bleed others for profit
Because all the way up there is where Angels sit



copyright Chris Smith 2011