The woman sits at home, she’s phoned in sick
Bad news she’s had, wounds to lick
Her husband has walked out on her
He had an affair, no wrath to incur
A man walks from work in shock
Just been told he’s lost his job
He’s out with immediate effect
Full pay till end of the month he’ll get
A boy at home gets a whack from his dad
For no real reason as he’s not so bad
He’s only ten and lives in fear
No mother to help him, he sheds a tear
An old lady sits home alone
No-one comes knocking or rings on the phone
Her husband died some ten years back
Her days are dark, her days are black
An old man walks his dog along his estate
Rundown it is, in a sorry dirty state
Kids bully him, throwing stones and calling him names
He’s been through worse, war is not a game
All feel alone, nowhere to run
No-one to turn to under a cold sun
They just sit, take it and sigh
For this is life, the tears they cry
Published by
Darren Greenidge
I'm a thinker, listener, a "question's pretty much everything" type of person. A seeker of knowledge, always restless, yet seeks the calm in life.
I love writing in all forms and am in the process of completing a number of ongoing projects. I love the craft of writing and the possibilities it holds. A magic carpet through the mind. I love pretty much all creative arts, music, film and theatre the leading ones.
Born in Hertfordshire in England, my family Irish, Welsh and English, I currently reside in Edinburgh, in Scotland. I'm drawn to coastal and mountain regions where I like to go to think and draw inspiration from. Ireland is a place that's dear to me, and I try to get back to see family and friends as much as possible.
My interests are wide and broad, too many to mention here, but history, archaeology, criminology, music and film are just some of those things I love.
I hope you enjoy my ramblings on here as that's what they are really. I'll let my fingers do the ''talking...''
View all posts by Darren Greenidge
Caliburnus Rises 
Really nice. Makes a change in more modern poetry for a rhyme to matter and not just to be for decoration.
Thank You Joseph. That means a lot.
A really poweful poem, I can feel the emotion in it. Great job.
Thanks Randall. Gonna have to start paying you for your kind words! Bless you.