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Peter Mitchell
My name is Peter Mitchell, born Ashford, Middlesex in 1978. At the age of 16 I came to live in N. Ireland, Currently residing in Belfast. I write poems whenever inspiration hits me although in truth it seems they write themselves. I love to write when I can. I enjoy the poems of Wilfred Owen, Siegfried Sassoon, Robert Browning and Seamus Heaney.
I also find the lyrics of the Arctic monkeys and Reverend and the Makers amongst others help to ignite my passion for writing.
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Nature by Peter Mitchell
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Nature is natural it's not unilateral
It's the same the world over and can't be escaped
People aren't perfect but a product of instinct
Some have no problem being crooked and fake.
There seems to be so little honour
Yet we all exist in this world together
Morals eroded loose their value
Only employed when it's felt they have to.
Inconsistent fake and faceless
emitting an air that's truly graceless
One rule for some, for others there's none
It seems inconsistent how respect is won.
Slimy snakes keep social climbing
so important to them but a waste of time, and
I can't abide them, they make me sick
amoral weasels, sneaky and slick.
Painting false pictures is a waste of a brain
so much time invested as the truth is molested
Some people prefer lies and never will change
It's a way of life that seems such a shame.
Shameful it is, when the truth is a game
sometimes played and often mislaid
Some lie so much they forget their own name
In the end I conclude human natures to blame.
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