I liked this, Damian.

Oh, so totally resonates. I don’t know where I would be without my proverbial pen. And I spent far too many years perched in neutral…only to discover there is no such thing. Either your ass is leaning in one direction or your nose is. I prefer staying informed & walking the path that suits me. Shadows & all. And i find like souls along the way when living authentic. Consider this one on my reading list with emphasis, my friend

Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Mary. So glad you connected with the write my friend. Agreed, there is always more to the story. Appreciate you.

Damian

That’s beautifully reflective—wisdom framed not as some lofty concept, but as lived experience layered over time. The imagery of seasons and fences evokes quiet contemplation, hesitation, even resilience. That last line? A soft unraveling of illusion. It reads like a quiet reckoning.

Superb work. Powerful.

Hi,
Thanks for your kind words. I think everyone goes through something harrowing at school. It’s never easy to be a kid. I think people have gone through far worse than me. It stays with me none the less.

I think the school environment could be improved to minimise the damage to kids. The trouble is governments are bankrupt, from years of corruption.

I am glad you read it.

Regards James

Tremendous story telling. Powerful. You bring this to vivid life.

The last 2 lines are perfect for this. Nicely done

Damn…you always take me somewhere with your poetry. This one is no exception. Give those last 2 lines their just dues. They’re fantastic, my friend

Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Raven. So glad you connected with the write my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Mary. So glad you connected with the write my friend. Means a lot to me. Appreciate you.

Damian

You’ve gotta give yourself more credit, Damian.
The last lines indeed suppressed my own voracious appetite. The last stanza is my favorite.
Nice spill my friend. xx
~P.G💋

That’s razor-sharp and sinuous—like a poem with fangs. The alliteration of “verbal viper” and “voracious appetite” creates a rhythmic coil of menace and desire, as if the speaker’s confronting a charmer who cloaks cunning beneath sweetness. The image of truth dangling just out of reach—“suspending the obvious”—gives this a wicked elegance.

Your writing has only improved with time, Damian. Your struggle with the ending paid off in a victorious way.

Great poem/

And ty for your comments, they’re much appreciated.

You write this story with such clarity and weave it into an engaging scene that reaches out and rivets my attention. Great poem.

John

Powerfully penned, Thomas. Excellent storytelling my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

You have expressed a real life tale with honesty and clarity.
I have been there. Got locked up for being drunk in public myself once.
I think I said to a police officer “Your a C…U…N…T. I didn’t say it i just spelt it out.
He didn’t understand. When he realised what I was saying I was thrown in the van.
I they took my clothes and gave me some grey prison scrubs. When I sobered up I started singing prison songs.
“He’s in the jailhouse now.” and Locked up by Akon. Some counties in England are stricker on booze than others. I have been out of my mind all over England, but Yorkshire was the place they locked me up. Don’t do it in Yorkshire.

Thanks for sharing this poem. I am glad to know I am not the only one.

regards
James

This sounds like such a Midwest thing. Great telling of the night!

Thank you so much.

Im reminded of the old adage…if it seems too good to be true, it probably is. Goes right back to your other poem…gotta read the fine print. Believe the lies, trust the cardboard cut out caricature, you get what you deserve. Hitting nails on the head with a jack-hammer, as usual, my friend

hello dearest Damian karma always has her way well said I am depressed it feels heavy this poem great write 💕

“Been swindled under some false pretense”, def felt that line.
Nice penned my friend.

“grass is dead on the other side”. The older I get the more I feel that. Great ink.

Damian, I read and reread your poem. Took me into the heart of chasing rainbows and the stark reality that often is at the other side. Superbly crafted poem.

John

That hits with a quiet force—like courage stitched from trembling threads. The contrast between silence and the mask of bravery unveils a moment of deep vulnerability, almost like a portrait of someone holding themselves together just enough to get by. It carries the weight of all the things left unsaid when fear takes the reins.