Poetry

by Paul Robert Mullen

this is what they’ve done

i’ve cried a lot today i can feel change

life is full of change

change doesn’t come easy

i’ve been forced into change

they’ve made me feel like i’ve achieved nothing

they see success in terms of money

i have no money left

today it’s hit me everything is changing

the air the sky it all seems different 

i have to take breaks from packing my case

i can’t listen to these records anymore

tonight is the last time i’ll sleep in my bed

the dog keeps looking at me

everything is changing

music used to live here

gliding with the owls at dusk

in search of freshwater

this is how you break a child:

a) let them fly too early

b) never show them that they have wings

c) take the mother away

(one is enough two, almost certainty three, well . . .)

music used to live here.

lying upon mountains silence

recollections violence 

this place i’m in

this space we breathe

graft my layers away

find me forgotten 

the crust brittle

fucked

i am no artist

About the Author

Paul Robert Mullen is a poet, musician and sociable loner from Liverpool, U.K. He has three published poetry collections: curse this blue raincoat (2017), testimony (2018), and 35 (2018).  He also enjoys paperbacks with broken spines, and all things minimalist.

Twitter: @mushyprm35