Poetry by Mark Carter about his lived experience

I sit and stare
At the books on the shelf.
Words make sentences.
Sentences make stories.
So many stories.
I sit and stare
At the books on the shelf.
Where’s my story?


Everybody needs a release and for those with mental health issues, that need is even greater. I’m no different and I found my release in the shape of free verse poetry. My mind is always working in overdrive and writing poetry helps empty my head of those thoughts. Unfortunately, most of what I write is fairly dark, but that’s what is in my head.

Poetry may not be the answer for everyone, but for me, I’m able to empty my mind onto a piece of paper and it is such a relief when my mind is clear enough to relax.

Everywhere I look,
There’s people everywhere.
Down the street, outside,
In my address book.
I know a lot of people,
But I have very few friends.


Heavy weighs my heart
During unsettling hours.
Emptiness echoes in a voidless mind.
Loneliness devours a soul fat
With wrong.
Pleasure is a thing long forgotten.


Dreams of better days are never far from hand.
Dreams of days past in a far and distant land.
Dreams of sunny days, warm and laying on the sand.
All I ever do I dream,
Never to make a stand.


Your heart is a branch,
And I am the bird
That crept by to
Perch on the wood,
Your eyes are
Heaven’s first light
And I sit by the balcony
As the light anoints me.
Even in your darkness
I will stay
For I will twinkle
Like the stars
Even if you run
With wings on your feet,
I will jump from cloud to cloud
To even be your shadow
Or a grain of sand beneath your feet
To live with you is my desire,
And to be your love my longing.


The smell of rain is
The smell of memories.
Memories long forgotten.
Memories I want to forget.
Memories I have to forget.
Damn the smell of rain.


I don’t feel like going to sleep.
I don’t feel like staying awake.
Leave me alone.
I don’t feel like me.


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