Emmet Morgan Poems

Wide open arms and welcoming eyes
The sky is the lens to a vista wide
The broken promise of light, representing a life long gone
Seems like a cruel dream, that doesn’t in your hands belong
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I was the sole member in your audience
The only chair in the room
I helped you into your costume, and out of it too
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Why did I become a writer?
Its not something I became, something I learned from a class, something that was passed down from a father - it was something I allowed
And in allowing, I realised I was the body that allowed it to be expressed.
So I sharpened my mind with the most cutting of words, eviserated and emancipated, my claws dripping with the beautiful poison of fantasy.
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