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Daniel P Martin

The Shoebox

Does he appreciate the irony,
The beauty and light of his surroundings,
The openness and clarity before him,
In stark contrast,
With the dark cloudiness of his mind.

The calm serene vista,
Viewed nonchalantly,
Through a pensive gaze,
More accustomed,
To a turbulent setting,
With whirlwinds of thought,
Torrents of emotion,
And bleak horizons,
Pent up in a shoe box,
A cell of his own creation,

The answer,
If you're interested,
Is yes,

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My Little Brother

My little brother has tickly toes,
A tickly tummy and a tickly nose.

My little brother has lots of green snot,
It runs down his nose and he sneezes a lot.

My little brother is messy when he eats,
He dribbles his milk, and he sucks on his feet.

My little brother makes bubbles in the bath,
When we splash daddy, we both start to laugh.

My little brother plays in his chair,
He rattles his toys and he pulls on my hair.

My little brother is playful and funny,
We both love our Daddy and we both love our Mummy.

My little brother smiles all the time,
I love my little brother, and I'm glad that he's mine.

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The Unfortunates

Society becomes increasingly diversified,
The contrast becomes starker with every news report.
Riches to the rich, and calories to the fat,
While the world’s unfortunates fall endlessly short.

Humanity prompts a damming effort,
A pseudo wall of love and compassion is built,
Only the unfortunates can fully appreciate the irony,
Of the rich and greedy, evoking the guilt.

Devoid of alternative, they accept the dowry,
The union of their need with the “patronising” benefit,
And so “civilised” society can rest its mind,
Bless, their cotton socks, but I’ve done my bit.

But alas, what to do, how to resolve, how to fix,
Answers? Well this is the enigma we face.
In-equity, disparity, diversity in life,
Have characterised the age of the whole human race.

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