by Stuart Burton | Dec 4, 2016 | Poetry
I once was an open village. Then a bit of pain came into my life, so I built a small wall. But still pain came in so I built a bigger wall. But the pain still came in so I built a castle. But it still came in so I built a castle with a moat. But it still came in. So I...
by Stuart Burton | Dec 4, 2016 | Poetry
To you it happened years ago to me it is now, today or yesterday. It happened so long ago or why now or it all in your head, you should be over it by now, this is all I hear from you. But imagine your worst day of your life. Now pause and rewind and press play again...
by Stuart Burton | Dec 4, 2016 | Poetry
I got my wounds on battlefields. I got my wounds from my friends not the enemy. My wounds you can’t see. My wounds hurt every day and there are no pain killers for this pain. My wounds don’t have any scars because to me they are still fresh. My wounds are still raw...
by Stuart Burton | Nov 10, 2016 | Poetry
My poppy I wear with pride. Please don’t try and make it about politics or religion. This is why I wear with pride. Poppies are red for all the blood that is spilled on the battlefields. Poppies have green leaves to represent the grass where all the fallen are...
