Chores for Charity

and slow
But volunteer help
and how quickly they’ll go.

Simply doing a job
doesn’t have to feel taxing

do your jobs with a smile
and you’ll soon be relaxing.

As I’ve grown up
I’ve noticed, for every good deed you do
you can accomplish a task
that may benefit you

I believe acts can be selfless
but if you need motivation
offering help round the house
is a decent foundation

from which you can build
into compassion and tenderness,
charity too
It may start with a chore
but the good comes from you.

~ Andrew
As a kid I didn’t like jobs. I thought that was what adults did but having lived away from home with my own responsibilities I’ve realised what a huge difference a little bit of effort can make. This is my 13th post in the month of April for NaPoWriMo,


Productivity: Zero

I’ve reached productivity: zero,
it’s the lowest a student can go
the sun starts the day
and by night I can say
that I truly have nothing to show

Tomorrow I swear will be better
I’ll get work done I know that I can
but come evening once more
I’ll just glance at the floor
Guess my coursework did not go to plan

~ Andrew
Amidst trying times on slow internet I present a poem bemoaning my awful rate of productivity during the holidays. Day 13 of NaPoWriMo I hope you enjoyed 🙂

Portrait of You

I’ll paint a picture with words
of all the kind things
that I’ve known growing up
through the people it brings

You were the youngest
and purest of heart
you gave me your friendship
you were there at the start

You were there
on the first day of change
you put up with me
even though I was strange

You are my best friend
my comrade, my brother
you’ve been through it all
and I would not choose another

You were the first one
I met from the net
you just wanted to talk
you’re as good as they get

You came much later
you were always a laugh
I owe you a lot
you’re a friend and a half

You were the same
you came along in a pair
you were a bit older
but I’m glad you were there

Since you and you
and the you after that
I’ve met many more ‘yous’
that have sat where you’ve sat

But through all the changes
the good times remain
you’ve made my life brighter
you’ve kept my mind sane

~ Andrew
The thing that means the most to me in life has to be the friends I have made along the way that have helped me through everything, this is somewhat of an ode to ‘you’ which refers to anyone I considered a friend although those I name are those who have a particular significance to me prior to my days at university (where I have met a ton of new faces and it would be impossible to describe how much it has shaped me). Day 12 of NaPoWriMo


Like notes to musicians,
cells help us compose,
biological matter
from our heads to our toes.
But wider, think bigger,
nine billion lives,
and all throughout time,
only one thing survives.

Humans we are, but once, we were not,
the dinosaurs ruled, now in soil they rot.
Dodos and donkeys and daffodils share
this common existence, we see cells everywhere.

But though cells live on,
they die just as fast,
with each generation,
as short as the last.

Mitosis, meiosis, all things we can measure,
we live out our lives with our eyes set on pleasure,
inside us, cells dying, under careful instruction,
they kill themselves by what we call ‘self-destruction.’

Although cells hold power
like words on a page
we can see ourselves as
a biological cage
the cells in our bodies
are trapped there for good
like an engine they drive us
from under the hood.

~ Andrew
Finished off something I started writing for a poetry competition a while ago. I didn’t finish it because my heart just wasn’t in it when it was for a competition. I knew if I were competing I wouldn’t be happy with it no matter what, but I am happy with it. Day 10 of NaPoWriMo

Take Action

The world
is depressed.

Lying in bed
still problems unaddressed.

I have woken up every day
this week
and the only change I see
is a couple of coins
scattered on my desk

I’ve stepped outside
every day
and even when clouds
fill the sky
it’s not sad, it’s just grey.

We associate sadness
with weather and whether
you like it or not
hatred still exists
still exist.

I can’t help but feel helpless
knowing somewhere out there
is someone who barely feels like living
because the world can be cruel
and the world is unforgiving

but that’s just because we broke it,
said see-saws were scales
and we didn’t see the inequality.
We were labelled pass or fail
and some people didn’t make the cut

until they did.

It’s not enough to say
we didn’t see it.

We turn a blind eye to the guy
who said he wanted to die
and until you try
you’re not worth their time

We put a measure on success
and if you’re not ticking boxes
like a checklist
you’re not good enough

I wish I could speak
to all the broken people
give them a minute of my time
because feeling pain is not a crime
and you should not feel guilty for it
let me repeat that
feeling pain is not a crime
and you should not feel guilty for it.

~ Andrew
Day 9 of NaPoWriMo. I seem to come back to the topic of bullies and depression a lot but I think it’s something that we should be talking about. We hear stories all the time but it’s always after the fact, it’s time to actually step in and stop the problem at the source


A Love To Die For

He looked at his watch
she was running behind
for the kill he was chasing
she was a nuisance to find

She came in high heels
sharp as can be
the kill she desired
was about six foot three

He was dressed to impress
with a suit and a tie
if he was the spider
then she was the fly

She wore a new necklace,
a gift from the last
he had tried to escape
but she had been too fast

He made his move
pushed her up to the wall

She wrapped her legs round him
as they stood in the hall

He saw her still smiling
he had made a mistake

She realised hers too
as her hands start to shake

He nodded and smiled

She slipped from his grip

They walked separate ways
as their wrists start to drip

~ Andrew
Little bit of a darker poem based on a prompt on reddit about two serial killers who kill their dates but are on a date with each other. Day 8 of NaPoWriMo I hope you enjoyed this weird little poem.