Untitled Series

Here's a collection of some of the first poems I wrote.
Warning: contains a lot of unnecessary anger.

#1
Rebels, poets and YouTube
Smoking laws, knife crime and Big Brother
Angry mobs, crumbled religions and lack of life
Deadly blows, loss of hope and feelings of depression
Our world is lost
Our spirits stolen
The dirt we left is now broken.

#2
An anger and hatred beyond doubt
Visions without reasons
An empty mind and an ink less pen
My youth is wasted

#3
Collapsed lungs and a broken set of teeth
Tangled up hair and sweaty pores
Bloody clothes and yellow fingers
A face riddled with cuts and a fractured nose
There's only so much a man can take
Before his soul destroys him

#4
Violent thoughts and sweaty veins
My world is ignorant and far from sane
Answers are clouded
There's none at all
I think too much
I hurt much more
One in a billion
One with a mind
Our youth is wasted
Our youth is blind

Mars Reigns Happily Indeed

Death is at mother’s door-step
Force the tears that never form
Close out all the signs and revelations
Hold on to the lonely
And try to breathe
See the flames and codes shine bright
Is he laughing or just hoping for a change?
I can’t tell from this angle

Ye Mighty, And Despair

A crow sits upon a porch
Papers blow while the sky darkens
Windows smashed, the church’s empty
Cars sit motionless by the side of the road
Whales washed up on abandoned beaches
Silhouettes stain schoolyards
Dirty dishes and dusty streets
Stacks of flesh and acid rain
A light shines from a high tower
A lonely lord with the world in his hands

Five To Midnight

Apocalypse dreams and reasons
Christ smothered in a blanket
Collapsed historical landmarks
The public cry in rage
A nuclear bomb in a crowded street
Gods fighting in a cage match
Delusional illusions become reality
World peace turns into world war
A dark prince finds his utopia

Realists?

A dark cloud descends on the west
The east has no sense of sorrow, lose or pain for its fellow brothers
The beast of Britain rises out of its cave and tells us all we are not one
Violence and chaos will consume the streets
Friends and families will be torn apart
This country will die on its back
Fighters for peace will surely be forgotten
Their images covered in excrement, bile and puss
The ‘only’ choice is most definitely not the right choice
There’s no freedom of speech when there’s talk of hate
The only colour that truly matters is the colour of blood

Those Last Seconds

My questions are never asked
My mind not spoken for
Lies leak out of a box
Mesmerized sheep nod along
Sex takes over truth
Death floats down from above
While ovals turn into cubes
Powerless preachers stop and stare
The smart cheer as they create tombs
Have we not moved on?
Are you pleased with your decisions?
I guess I’ll just cremate instead