Homeless

We raised pillars of commitment

On foundations of loyalty

Built walls of solid love

Cemented with each kiss

Roofed with care and tenderness

Erected turrets and towers

To take our relationship to new heights

Installed windows

To gaze out upon our future

Warmly insulated with affection

Furnished with devotion

Decorated with adoration

Fireplaces crackling with passion

Gardens of friendship lovingly tended

And through years of wear and tear

We renovated and repaired

Each fissure, each broken promise

Of our patchwork palace.

But alas we could not hide

The cracks in our foundations

Rocked by our earthquakes

And when you slammed the door

Our fragile house fell down.

You sought shelter elsewhere

The stability I could not provide

A sturdier home

To house your hopes and dreams

A love fortified

But I still roam

These crumbling ruins

Of our once proud castle

Derelict and dilapidated

The ashes of our endeavours

A shell of shadows

Still haunted by your ghost

But in the dust of this destruction

The remnants of our construction

Remind me that our love

Was once a real thing of beauty

And never

A waste of time.

Emma H, age 27, 02/01/2018


This poem was inspired by the gorgeous song “Palace”, by the fantastically talented Sam Smith. You may recognise it from the soundtrack of a recent festive advert from Apple. I am a huge fan of Sam Smith; his songs are always lyrically exquisite and heartfelt. I wish I had the ability to express my emotions so eloquently! “Palace” is one of my favourite songs from his latest album, “The Thrill of It All”. You can listen to him singing it live here:

Advertisements

Empty

 

I open up my little brain

To rummage for ideas,

But all the shelves are empty:

It’s the worst of writers’ fears!

There are cobwebs in the corners,

And balls of tumbleweed,

But simply no creative thoughts –

The one thing that I need!

Continue reading

My Muse

 

Why is it that I find my muse

In heartbreak, grief and sadder news?

In melancholic reflection,

In festering fears and rejection?

Perhaps because I’ve naught to lose

In poems that reveal my blues,

And at my deepest, darkest lows

I find relief in rhyme and prose;

Cathartic creativity

Releases pain and sets me free.

 

Emma Hyde, age 26, 04/01/2017

Continue reading