New work

I will remember him

I watched him pulling up in his expensive car

I had seen him driving slow from afar

I offered to clean, with my water and rag

The window opened and there was a young lad

He had a toy tractor, yellow and green

This amazing toy my eyes had never seen

He let me play with it for a second or two

He smiled at me, then offered it too

I was so happy, by this boy’s geste

I searched my affairs with behest

I shared a sweet that mother had made

He ate with me, it made my day

The car drove off, he waved goodbye

I will remember him, till the day I die


Childhood · depression · Life

This is my life

I am cold

Nights on the street

Found somewhere to hide

Got nothing to eat


Don’t want to see anyone

Don’t want to be found

Sick of life at home

Felt so bound


My tummy rumbling

No money left

Got to eat something

Then I can rest


I leave my armchair

In a stone outhouse

To forage for food

Just like a mouse


To the corner shop

To browse the shelves

Beans and spaghetti

I help myself


Under my coat

I dart for the door

They try to stop me

I push them to the floor


I run back home

Shaken and scared

15 years old

My life laid bare


I open the can

With a rock and a knife

I eat my dinner

This is my life


Searching for you is a collection of poetry about love, heartbreak and happiness. A raw journey looking at our search in life to find ourselves and that special someone.

Current affairs · depression

On the run

On the run, on the moors

Can’t do it anymore

Physical, mental, punishing

Cold, foggy, grass glistening

Breath in front of face

All that empty space

Impossible to feel fingers

Biting frost lingers

Unwanted, unmissed, worn

Clothes in a state, all torn

Return to home in woods

Between bushes near a brook

Sleeping bag hung to dry

Out of the regard of others eyes

Tins of beans all to eat

Would kill for some meat

Surrounded by branches and dead leaves

This luck he would never of believed

Solitude, loneliness all he knows

Rejected waster, way it goes

Living this each and every day

Months now, this his only way

Been attacked, spat on, urinated on too

Drunken men, nothing better to do

He’ll take, steal do what it takes

No choice now, life at stake

Feel sorry for him for where he is now?

He manages, we wonder how.


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Phil lister 01/11/17

Picture: pixabay