My Brother's Keeper.
June 27, 2017
October 10, 2016
Angels And Demons.
October 5, 2016
I Will Listen.
October 4, 2016
September 17, 2016
August 13, 2016
The Ghost of Veterans House.
July 7, 2016
July 3, 2016
Son of a Witch.
June 18, 2016
They lie a bit.
June 7, 2016
My Grandad’s old school held an exhibition in remembrance week, focusing on all the old pupils who had fought in the armed conflicts of our country. I...
"REMEMBER LAST NIGHT." A short story.
November 11, 2014
Politicians they lie a bit, tell a different story because they don’t see any currency in humility, just see glory.
Want to stand in front of a congress of their kind, make ogres laugh, their fables unwind.
What they have to do, ignore people’s trust and young people die because of their lust.
Legacy, see their name in lights, get the youngsters to carry their fights.
And the youngsters will fight believe what they’re told, lay their life down for the tarry gold.
Dress it up then Mister Politician, scream WMD produce evidence like a magician.
But there weren’t any were there Mister Liar and the worst of it was the young took your fire.
And you watched and let them do it, go into the storm, didn’t even have proper kit.
Mister Liar did you push your own sons into that sin, the firing line Mister Liar back your words with your kin.
Of course not because you and your kind are vacuous cowards, killing on high from your Ivory towers.
You have your eyes on a different prize, but your legacy your being, is all built on lies.
So you sacrifice our young turn away your cheek, let them die, the strong and the weak.
In a boiling desert storm young people you sent, believed in their hearts what they represent.
But you lied to them did you not, and worse ill equipped them and for that they were shot.
And every bullet that struck those six, came from you and your kind, your political bag of tricks.
Young people’s blood flowed into the earth because of you, no justification for what your kind do.
Even after all the lies, all the endless worry, one word would help, that word is sorry.
But you cant say it can you because you have no humility, no sense at all of your own culpability.
Because of that and for those who have fought, justice will only come to you in a court.
War crimes you see your terrible deed, not protecting our children in their time of need.
So many dead adults, babies and teens, destroyed by you before they even start being.
Down to you and your kind a stain on your souls, the children of all sides destroyed by your goals.
There are no excuses you abdicated your responsibility, but your time comes, your accountability.
All those parents their hearts crying loud in pain, by not saying sorry what do you gain.
You mock those parents to their face, say God will judge me their stories debase.
Well I hope that your God is there chiming his bell, casts you down into the depths of hell.
Because that’s what you believe signed up to be true, so lie awake at night realise he’s coming for you.
But think on this, ponder the where and why, the only thing you have achieved is to make parents cry.
So Mister Liar remember as we grow older and let our children sign on the line as a soldier.
The British soldier does not join to kill, fight or die, worse be taken to war on a lie.
But they will fight if they have to go to the edge, so cherish them well make that your pledge.
If you take my children to fight you better have a damn good reason, otherwise if you lie that is called treason.