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GM Oct 2015
There are so many ways to tell you I love you
but they have all been said before and the words less true.
Instead I'll tell you a story, an anecdote, if you will.
One in which I hope you will  find meaning.
Although the sentiment bears no embarrassment,
it may be a little revealing.
I've recently become obsessed with light.
I fantasise composition of sketches, I photograph flames contrasting their sinister shadows.
Oh, how light intrigues me!
A broad topic of fascination and awe, my thoughts scatter with wonder.
Yet, amidst this fantasy, I see you in every shade.
It's not that you are "the light of my life" or even "the light in the dark"; although I do see you in twinkles of a spark.
My love of light comes from a deep-rooted passion;
for finding combinations with enthusiasm.
How is it possible that light could affect mood?
Look at Rembrandt's etchings and you'll understand my point of view.
Light doesn't just enrich dark and vice versa.
Each subtle tone and shade compliment each other and reveal what another cannot.  
That is what you are,
you reveal the best light in me,
you are my favourite shade.
GM Sep 2015
I see them in your eyes
Darkest colours of the night
Fearless smile to brighten the skies
Light the way to my heart
A very short poem written after the resolution of a heated argument.
GM Sep 2015
Never loved anyone as much as I hate you
Never felt so much rage as when I'm with you
Never wanted to die as much as you keep me alive
And yet when we sleep at night you turn to the other side.
A very short poem written in the heat of an argument.
GM Sep 2015
To say a piece of me is missing would be another cliche without meaning. So I'll say this:
With every tear you break my heart
With every adventure you're at the start
With every journey you're the destination
With every answer you pose another question
GM Sep 2015
He opened his eyes to the morning light,
As he spoke his mind he said things will be alright.
But when the end of the day draws close,
the anticipation lingers whilst the shadows filled his lungs.
He tried desperately to gasp for light; he was alone in the cold night.
The last luminesce on the edge of an empty wine bottle dwindles.
The second glass a reminder of love never to be rekindled.
GM May 2015
I was walking through the grey rainy streets, another melancholic day.
Proud English flags hung up in the windows of council houses.
What are we so proud of anyway?
A country run on ignorance and blaming the minority, the government wonders why we have a problem with authority?
So we will focus on the youth that are disengaged and abstaining from voting.  Don't mention those who are hungry, unemployed and hurting.
Ssh, if we keep it quiet then maybe nobody will notice.
Close your eyes while the darkness approaches.
GM Jan 2015
Sitting on a train waiting,
Looking at all the beautiful people
Surrounding me with their naivety
Ignorantly bypassing the sunset
The way the trees frame the clouds
The last glimmer of light fading
Landing at a girls face
Wrapped in her blanket crying
Pretending not to notice the stares
Trying to believe somebody cares
Head in her hands listening to music
Imagining worlds in which she exists
As more than just another ******* a train, trying to find her way home.
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