Aspie 2
Aspie people with a disorder
Do have something they shouldn't oughta
They live life in quite a maze
Everything is just a haze.
The fear of being by one's self
Can block out everything else
But it's the old adage
'chin up high'
So Aspie people reach for the sky.
poem by Alun Jones
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Aspie 1
If you see me distressed
on a bench in your area,
Don't try to ask me why
I feel the way that I do;
You won, t understand how I can't cope
with so much intense stimulation,
The crowds of people are making me suffocate,
So many cars are making me feel sick.
I can't cope, take me out of here,
Out of this pollution filled place,
Into the comforting quiet countryside,
Where I feel loved and safe.
poem by Alun Jones
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Insomnia
I had no sleep today
The consequenses I know I will pay
But the slumber has just gone away
Wide awake I do lay.
I bash my head against the wall
Of the house, In the hall
To get some rest, some at all
But a bit to hard, and I do fall.
Twitching and turning, I just can't sleep
Where I lay no light or deep
Couse all these problems, I just can't beat
So through a window, I do peep.
The pills and potions are just not working
So other ways, I am contemplating
But whilst I think I am yawning
Now to late as the day is dawning.
poem by Alun Jones
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Dropp In
Doors are opened to our dropp in centre
Logs are signed in, before we can enter
People relax more as their bags are downed
But mouths are dry so thirsts are drowned
New faces come in and departments linking
Pressures are dropped so anxiety is sinking
Games are played all won and lost
Champions are made to others cost
It must be that time as tables are set
People queue up as the plates are met
Chatter is abated as the food is ate
The cuisine we devour, we all do appreciate
The crockery is put away and so it's time to relax
But quiz time approaches and our minds are at max
poem by Alun Jones
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The Local
If you're lost for somewhere to go
When you're walking around llanon
There's a pub up a hill I know
That's simply named the White Swan
You won't find a more friendly crowd
No matter where you may live
Some are quiet but most are loud
But none more so than one named Viv
The landlord likes his horses
And happy to have a bet
No matter what the course is
He never ends up in debt
The drinks on display are diverse
Whether it is spirits or stout
You may want to come to converse
Or to try the food and pig out
[...] Read more
poem by Alun Jones
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A Dream
I have a dream, a dream I so long for,
A vision of a place with a new way of thinking
A way forward towards an ideal Utopian Socialist society
Political and social reforms of our outdated state
In this dream everyone is equal
No matter of physical or mental dependencies
Whether you are white, black or green
A community as one living, working and socialising together
The debate of ideas that can bind us together, not tear us apart
Is this dream just a hope or could it come true
So much diversity and so much knowledge to gain
I hope religious doctrine will not stop this happening
And we can live as we should, without fear or condemnation
In a loving, caring hopeful place and not constrained
poem by Alun Jones
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The long suffering man
The wind whistles past the lone figure as he walks down the street
With nothing to do and with nothing to say
What is his story he has such sadness in his eyes
Shuffling along with a glum face but on such a sunny day
The hurt of Past memories in his head that won't go away
All the emotions to deal with all the pain and anger
The bitter pill of guilt and thoughts of self harm
To much to cope with and to much to endure
Those creepy hands over his small boyhood flesh
An uncle trying to be nice but getting his own way
The pain of abuse the pain of wondering why
Wanting for it to all disappear, for it to all go away
The bottle in his pocket is now his only friend
With the strong smell of whiskey on his breath he carries on
To much to hurt to endure so he pops all his pills
Goodbye world for tomorrow I will be gone
poem by Alun Jones
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The Homeless Man
I reluctantly wake up to another bleary, dreary day
To see the marks from those broken shards of glass
The anxiety, stress and anger, those desperate cries for help
Wrists throbbing, trails of blood, but still on this mortal earth
Shouting, crying at the top of my voice in my head
Those voices and screams, why why, but still left unheard
A hopeless situation in a hopeless uncaring world
Why do I carry on, I do not know
For I am the homeless man
As I walk and wait for the daily metro as the shops begin to open
Looking on as shutters go up, coffees are poured
Those enticing aromas that I can ill afford
Lost in the wilderness, trying to work things out
Confused, not understanding, just want to hide myself away
Those black clouds that are looming heavily above me
To tired to care anymore, to tired to walk, to tired to care
For I am the homeless man
I am the strange man people look at whilst sneering, jeering
[...] Read more
poem by Alun Jones
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