The Man Who Couldn’t Stop Smiling

There was a man who would always smile

No matter the situation

He’d smile in the face of any trial

Toward any confrontation


People thought he was weird or conceited

Truthfully, he was cursed

He’d smile despite how bad he’d been treated

He  knew he looked perversed


The spell was far too hard to break

And he became ostracised

He wanted to know his mistake

He was being punished, antagonised

What he would give to cry a tear

And his cheeks ached terribly

He’d lost everyone he held dear

Lost any normality


Then a young girl approached him

And handed him her teddy

“Hello, you can have Tim

He will be your buddy”


“Even though you’re smiling, you look lonely”

The man didn’t know what to reply

Then a miracle began to happen, slowly-

Despite his smile he began to cry


It was the most touching moment

And he continued to smile

A child viewing him free from judgement

And he felt good for a long while


Eventually his smile began to fade

The spell was broken!

A beautiful moment had came to his aid

From the words a child had spoken


Tears began to flood it felt so good

And he felt his smile reappear

But this time he knew it should

So he never held back his cheer


I am always writing lists,

It’s something I love to do;

A personality trait many possess.

I must admit I do like to be organised,

But I suspect the lists are just something to do

While I avoid doing the to dos written-

Another form of procrastination.

I always joke to my mum

“You need a list for all your lists!”

But I can see how it gets like that.

I have separate lists for everything

Things to draw and things to write

Things to buy and things to try

A 2017 resolution list- even though I said I wouldn’t!

Some stuff has been written for years

Still yet to be crossed off.

Yet I still add more- so much ambition but such little drive.

Maybe this year’s resolution should be to complete the lists

There are so many

Scattered in hundreds of different pretty notebooks

What am I doing?!

I’m not doing anything

So why am I still writing the lists?

A way of trying to gain control of my life maybe

When not a lot is going well

Writing the lists at least makes me feel like I have

Some sort of a plan

And they give me something to do

Beginnings, middles, ends

There may be a beginning, a middle and an end to life |
But there are also beginnings, middles and ends |
A beginning such as becoming husband and wife |
Each person’s story depends |

One person might begin a new life when|
They leave home and go to uni |
But saying goodbye to the days before then |
May also be a finale |

Middles happen in every chapter |
Like moving in before getting married |
Some might think the middle doesn’t matter |
The ends are all that are fancied |

But that A grade you got on that paper one time |
Made you the person you are today |
So really, it’s the middles of life’s climb |
That make it worth the stay |

Everyone is only concerned with how it turns out |
For them in the end |
You’ll get nowhere doing nothing, I want to shout!
The middle, you need to attend


I was sat at the bench of a train station
Waiting for my next train
When i saw a guy sat writing mention
Morality, and being humane

How ironic it was after that
When a lady with crutches came by
The guy continued to be sat
Wouldn’t kiss his seat goodbye

How moral it was of him
To write about ethics and all things good
How humane it was of him
To keep his seat when he could have stood

The lady continued to struggle to stand
So I gave her my chair
The guy still writing like Richard Brandt
His seat he did not spare