This Is It

This is it. This is my last post and then I won’t be posting here anymore. Sorry if you liked reading my poems but I’ve not posted in ages and ages. 



Shout On

You cannot let yourself be crushed, 

Nor can you allow anyone, 

To bury your views below societies, 

Especially now, you cannot, 

Only see this as the end, 

Full stop, nothing else to come, 

As soon as we stop shouting, 

We stop being heard, 

And we no longer matter. 

Speak Louder

Speak louder and be heard,

What you have to say,

Is able to make a change,

And keeping your thoughts,

A secret means that,

No-one knows that,

You agree or disagree,

Or think that something,

Is wrong or should,

Be different.
Being quiet makes no difference,

But speaking up can.

Literature And Stuff

Words of books, 

Regarded by society,

To be the best of all,

And those that,

Stand the test,

Of passing time,

And changing tastes,

To still be popular,

Alongside stuff,

Stuff being,

Anything and,

Everything from,

Anytime and,

Anyplace which,

Is all thrown,

Together in,

A random way.


Over and over again,

A cycle that repeats,

Once, twice, thrice

A circle of events,

That constantly rotates,

Without stopping,

Or changing,

What it is,

Already doing.


At night people still rush through,

The city’s busy streets,

And you can still people watch,

Just as well as you could in daytime,

Nighttime doesn’t mean,

A stereotypical STOP where,

Everything comes to a standstill,

From sunset to sunrise,
More often, night is quieter,

But the streets are still busy,

And people are still around,

Stop appears to not exist.


It’s in the past,

The second that,

Has just gone by,

Everything is history,

By the time you’re,

Thinking about what,

Has just happened,

It’s over,

In a flash,

And everything is your,

Memory unless,

You forget,

And then it’s,

Gone forever.