The watchman smiles,
a fake smile,
just a bit too big
around the eyes.
These eyes that have seen
lies spread as truth,
narcissistic abuse ignored
and painted in different hues
to gaslight the view.
The watchman
slides his eyes
towards the ground.
The smile swoops
and becomes a frown.
Sick of this place.
Sick of this city.
Sick of always fighting
to end back on the same
street as before.
The dream thieves
always come back for more,
and the air tastes as shitty as it did
when the hateful rains poured.
The watchman reminisces.
Remembers a deceitful kiss
from days long distant to this.
When he thought only
of sunflowers and smiles.
When his heart would
walk for miles in the sunlit bliss.
A time so far away
in a place that he
doesn’t recognise today.
Now the flowers don’t sway,
the air thick with a mist of drizzle
as even the moon hides away.
The watchman walks
into the rain.
The pain in his heart
can’t be contained.
He has only ever tried
to bring love to this part of town,
but now the watchman feels broken down.
“Farewell”
he speaks to the empty air
as he wanders into the loneliness
to experience another nightmare.
But as he leaves, he whispers,
“I’ll be back, when the night needs me,
when the world is ready to fight
against the demons
Thanks for reading
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continue to do this.
Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle
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