I feel myself trapped,

but I know I cant back-,

-up to who I once was,

that person's long lost.

I hate how they stare,

and pretending to care,

cause though it's not new,

it still hurts, to be true.

I know I dont fit in,

they keep me remindin',

that I dont deserve shit,

see, there's always a hitch.

I cant help but feel tired,

think my time has expired,

feel the pressure in my head,

see, they wish I was dead.

They think I dont know,

think I'll go with their flow,

think they own me,

but that cant possibly be.

No one owns something,

that's broken or empty,

they cant handle the stress,

in the end I'm worthless.

="BXtr"=

Who said it first?

Was it me or was it you?

When I glanced back to see

you glance back at me

There was something that

stopped me in my tracks.

Something in your eyes

something poetic..stories upon stories..

and I didnt ask you but..

I decided I had to read all of them..In those shimmering green...

Something about them told me more,

Than you or I could ever before..

..People talk about falling..

...I think I crashed and landed in heaven..

Some people call it "love"

and though I'm not sure

what it is quite yet..

It's something I want to explore..

Those shining emeralds

told me a secret of yours..

And I dont even think you

realised that it happened..

So I'll keep it a secret too..

until you find out yourself..

Till then I'll remember those

eyes looking at me as you sat there...

I'll stay still, cross my heart and hope to die,

I'll keep it safe, keep it with me,

That secret..sweet, bittersweet,

That Secret from your emerald eyes...

="BXtr"=

Secrets unfolded,

Storys untold,

Mysterys unsolved and,

Hearts turned cold.

No inspiration,

no desire,

to live life,

or to inspire.

A love taken away from him,

it tore him apart,

he never forgot that sin,

for it broke his heart.

His feet touch the floor,

of the broken wooden boards,

he looks around with a tear in his eye,

there he breaks down on the floor and crys.

He feels a presence, so tender, so sweet,

a love so strong, no one could ever beat,

he feels an arm wrap around his shoulder,

and off came the weight, that weighed on him like a boulder,

He looks up and realises he was never alone,

even when he felt he hadn't really fought for her,

his little girl never left his side for he was her home,

and he held her hand once again and said: "I love you, my daughter."

- "=BXtr="

59 wakes up on the wrong side of the bed,

Realises all of his hair is on one side of his head,

Takes – just under a minute – to work out it’s because of the way that he slept,

He finds some clothes and gets dressed.

He can’t help but look in the mirror and be subtly impressed

How he looks rough around the edges and yet casually messed,

As he glances out the window sees the sight that he is blessed with

Of 60 from across the street.

Now 60 was beautiful,

With perfectly trimmed cuticles,

Dressed in something suitable,

Never rude or crude at all.

Unimprovable,

Right on time as usual,

More on cue than a snooker ball

But liked to play it super cool.

59 wanted to tell her that he knew her favourite flower,

He thought of her every second every minute every hour,

But he knew it wouldn’t work, he’d never get the girl,

Because although she lived across the street they came from different worlds.

While 59 admired 60’s ‘perfectly round’ figure,

60 thought 59 was… odd.

One of his favourite films was 101 Dalmatians,

60, of course, preferred the sequel.

While he romanticised the idea that they were star-crossed lovers,

They could go against the odds (and evens) because they had each other,

She maintained the views imposed upon her by her mother

That separate could not be equal.

Even with rose-tinted eyes 59 could realise

The reason why 60 would never love him.

He had picked up on the vibes, that because he was 59,

60 felt she was above him.

And though at the time he felt stupid and dumb,

For trying to love a girl controlled by her stupid mum,

He should have been comforted by the simple sum –

Take 59 away from 60, and you’re left with the one.

Sure enough it took him 2 months of moping around,

But 61 days later, 61 was who he found,

His next-door neighbour, he went round to her house,

Because he had lost his keys again and his parents were out.

As he noticed the slightly wonky numbers on the door,

He wondered why he’d never introduced himself before,

As she politely let him in his jaw dropped in awe –

61 was like 60, with a little bit more.

She had prettier eyes, and an approachable smile,

And like him, rough-around-the-edges casual style,

And like him, everything was in disorganise piles,

And like him, her mum didn’t mind if friends stayed a while.

Because she was like him, and he liked her.

He reckoned she would like him if she knew he was like her,

It was different this time – these feelings felt proper,

So he plucked up the courage and asked for her number

She laughed – I’m 61.

He grinned – I’m 59,

And today I’ve had a really nice time,

So tomorrow if you wanted you could come over to mine?

She said yeah…

I love talking to people, who are just as quirky,

So she agreed to this unofficial first date.

In the end he was only ready 1 minute early,

But it didn’t matter because she arrived 1 minute late.

From that moment on there was non-stop chatter,

How they loved x-factor, how they had 2 factors,

How that didn’t matter – distinctiveness made them better,

By the end of the night they knew they were meant together.

As time went by the relationship deepened,

He found all the little things about her more appealing,

He had complicated ways of telling her his feelings,

Like his reasoning for why things would work between them…

He explained – you’re 61, I’m 59,

Rotated round/upside down, that’s 19 and 65,

The age that one might get a job until the day that they retire,

Of course it will work because we’ve got the world to be inspired?

She laughed at him.

Now one day she was talking about ‘stuck up 60’,

She noticed that 59 looked a bit shifty.

He blushed – told her of his crush:

“The best thing that never happened, because it led to us”

61 was clever see, not prone to jealousy,

Looked him in the eye and told him quite tenderly,

You’re 59 I’m 61 together we,

Combine to become twice what 60 would ever be.

At this point 59 had tears in his eyes,

Was so glad to have this one-of-a-kind girl in his life.

He told her the very definition of being prime

Was that with only one and himself could his heart divide,

And she was the one he felt he could give his heart to,

She said she felt the same and now she knew the films were half true.

Because this was better than that, that love was just a sample,

Because when it came to real love, they were a prime example.

- Harry Baker, World Poetry Slam Champion.

No concentration,

Feeling like you're in damnation,

He eats your soul,

makes your skin crawl.

He makes you sweat,

he'll make you swear,

makes you feel horrible,

inside, outside, everywhere.

He'll make you want to scream,

even though, as obvious as it seems,

He doesn't care...

You hear it inside your head,

inside your heart,

he'll make you wake up from bed,

make you want to tear yourself apart...

do something!..anything..,

to make him stop it..

the tears will pour,

you'll sweat some more..,

but no matter what you do..

he'll still cling on to you...

Smiling, laughter,

reading stories with their "happy ever after",

Monsters under the bed,

actually in one's head,

Innocence, creativity,

curiosness, and living free,

dreaming of what to be,

so many chances.. so free,

"Don't touch the lava",

which ice-cream I'd rather..

So many opportunities,

Adults pretends that it's all ceased,

because it's not mature,

it's not cool at all..

it's "childish"...

But...I like childish..

people think that, that's selfish,

and it's ok..

not everyone see's things the way I do,

or you..

for that matter,

trying to protect one's stature,

just by hiding the little ball of joy inside,

not realising it's ok..it's alright,

and that it's not at all selfish..

it's just childish..

and childish is ok.

- BXtr.

Me, I fight.

I fight for the light, in the dark dark night,

never let it out of my sight,

tell myself it's alright...because I fight.

I fight for what I believe is right,

because if I don't, I'll be left..

..left with all the wrong..

all the fakes and the bad,

the hate and the sad.

The neverending voices telling me I'm nothing,

but something!..

something makes believe that everything..

everything has it's reasons and it's end.

Where sadness dies somewhere happiness goes away too,

and there's nothing I can ever do...neither would you.

But still... I fight!

'Cause even when they say I'm wrong and not right,

there will always be this light,

that I keep in sight,

and tell myself it's alright...because I fight.

The open scars, the bloody wounds, pouring blood,

but not a tear, or any fear...and one would think there should...

Time goes, and it's still the same,

No laughter.. no joy.. no sadness.. no pain..

nothing...

but...something!...

something makes me belive that everything...

yes, everything has it's reasons and it's end!

Wars around us, in our heads,

Life itself... as it must be said...

and it's ok..

because when something ends..

something can begin..

new, and clean...

even me and you...

that's why I fight..

my greatest enemy is my mind,

and it wakes me up at night..

but I'm alright...

because I fight.