Conor Matthews

I have a neighbour upstairs
And they can be loud.
At night, in the morning,
How can one person make so much sound?

They’re always upstairs,
They just never leave
Not for work, not for sleep,
The noise has no reprieve.

What’s strange is I live in a house,
There’s no one above me.
The neighbour isn’t real; never was,
But how can that be?

I know I have neighbour,
Even if they don’t exist.
I want to admit they’re not there,
But I can’t, I must resist.

I have a neighbour upstairs,
Whether you believe me or not.
I know they shouldn’t be,
But I guess that’s my lot.

So they’re up there now,
Banging away.
And I have no choice but to listen,
All night and all day.

Photo by Steve McSkudder on Unsplash

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Photo by Robina Weermeijer on Unsplash

Jumbling and rattling in the box,
A jigsaw of you in your head,
A life spent sorting; combining,
A life spent stressed before you’re dead.

What a blockbuster you act out,
For an audience of strained nerves,
Mistaking all of the plot holes,
For exciting scares, twists, and curves.

Ruminate all you like silly,
None of this will ever come true,
But what if the real difference,
If there’s no differences to you.

Indulge in your pitiful mind,
Live a life never lived before,
And when you’re done playing pretend,
Refuse to leave and play some more.

This is no life to fake living,
Imagination can be Hell,
So come back and face your worries,
Your life will be worthy to tell.

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Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

It’ll be gone soon,
That’s no excuse for now.
Just because it ends,
Is no reason to rush.

You can’t live your life,
Years spent wondering how,
You’ll go like fallen leaves,
Vanishing in the brush.

The worst you can do,
Is go before it’s right.
You’ll never know for sure,
How it all ends.

It may seem easier,
Than to stay and fight.
But it’s worth it,
To family and friends.

Do not linger long,
On what has yet to come.
Nor on the past,
And words left unsaid.

Instead take pride,
Where you’ve been and from.
You are for the living,
Doubts are for the dead.

Infinity lies ahead,
Whatever way you look.
So if you must remember,
Let it be to breathe.

For if ages are chapters,
Your life is a book;
Just because it’ll end,
Isn’t reason not to read.

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