Poetry Magazines - The best collection of poetry magazines online - Simon Armitage

A black roof top crow is my wake up signal
Once again morning slipped free from sado-masochist night
After several dreary hours endured
Synthetic sunshine burns holes through windows
Extreme weather conditions cause bodily confusion
Heart turns red and sore
Like a skinned rabbit it glows almost radioactive
I wash in warm water
It trickles from my face
Like some bizarre blood letting routine
The reflection in the mirror is my daily critical interviewer
Observing every mistake
Never letting anything go
The things that I fear
Are the things I want to be
Trying not to be brainwashed with daily life’s
altered images turning into pornographic waste
Why is it that the voices in my head are the ones
I listen to most?
Believing in them like some mad cult worship
Converted I stand
Feet firm on an uneven ground
Head fights its way through every cloud
Powder puff wings fly through my ears
Human vultures want to stretch my heartstrings like spaghetti
They wait on every street corner with their beaks sharpened
on every insecurity
Pecking on the last remnants of self esteem
Making their swollen egos even larger
My willpower disappears with the slugs underground
Hostility pokes through the keyhole
People are not what they appear to be
Bright colours change to grey
Muted answers in conversations
So many unanswered questions to too many lies
Forced smiles become grimaces
A virtual recluse in a virtual reality world
Always on the verge of darkness
This being now becomes unrecognizable
As mind molestation covers the soul like a lizard skin rash
Through snake eyes I try and survive
In this empty day of intentional deceptions