Survivors Poetry

The day I found my own love, I was on a train going home after a group therapy session. I woke up in a blinding light on a hot summer’s day. I realized I’d just come out of a tunnel. While I’d been asleep I’d had a dream. When I got home I started to write this poem. It only took me a few days to complete. But now I realise it had taken me a little longer…nearly thirty years longer.

Finders Keepers

I sat beneath an oak tree
As I pondered with my thoughts
When a robin sat beside me
To shelter from the storms

And as he sat and shivered
He smiled and looked at me
He said in a voice I could hardly hear
Please be a friend to me

Unaccustomed with my feelings
With my fingers cold and numb
I put him in my pocket
Where he nestled and slumbered long

Was the twilight of the evening
When I woke to the warmth of the sun
For this had been a summers day
And my little friend had gone

So when I feel lonely sure no one can see
I sit beneath the tree
And hope one day my little friend
Says hello again to me

And as I pray in the heat of my day
For my friend who never comes
With my hands in the warmth of my pockets
My fingers grow cold and numb

Now loneliness no longer comes
But aloneness just to be
My little friend that shivered
The friend I found in me

Black Jacks and Fruit Salads

I walked through fields of happy time
My innocence sweets and me
Where I ran and played and laughed all day
For the joys of my life were free
In the woods of trees all dressed in their leaves
I’d climb to the blue of sky
I didn’t know my happy time
Was soon to fade and die

As devil slithered from his hell
He covered me in his slime and his smell
Mummy and Daddy you’ll never see
If you tell he said with glee
I wonder if a scream can end
With silence as it’s only friend
As my dignity cried my innocence died
And I said goodbye to happy time

Now I walk through this world undead with my fear
As another man kind comes a bit too near
Where the innocence of childhood was my only real sin
For the glories and Almighty’s of the cowardice of men
Oh to be while as I wake in the morning
In a dream of the dreams of my dreams
Just to walk through those fields of happy time
With my innocence, and with my sweets, and me.

Poems by Geoff

To read Geoff's story click here.