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