The troubadour - a poem by Chris Zachariou

I go back to that

graveyard where all
my dreams are buried—
a prison in my head
I made to keep her;

A life looking at the door - a poem by Chris Zachariou

You are my memories
when life was strawberries
and cream in June, of scars
and wounds unhealed and of
unending days of sadness.

A very serious altercation - a poem by Chris Zachariou

a beautiful butterfly

A fragile child with bruised wings

you found refuge in the caverns

of my troubled mind.

I kissed your broken hopes

I warmed your broken wings

and prayed to the gods

that you would never leave me.

You dazzled me
with a splash of bright colours
then tried to shock me
and demanded my response.

A coupling of minds, we fed
each other's need for loneliness.
At ease —we both knew
we were never destined to be lovers—
we revelled in the sin of happiness.

I was terrified.
Strike out first, push the button,
wreck, destroy.
Banish this deceptive dream.

I plunged into that pit
and painted all thoughts of us
on the walls in black.

How I miss your song.
Your face is now a prisoner
trapped in a hopeless screen.

I wonder, did I ever really
know you or was I just
a stranger in your brilliant life.

I put my head above the parapet
and look at your happy world.
I speak to you but you stay silent
and I sink back into my lonely life.