I'll try my best not to see,

the white of your eyes,

or the captive's tears.

I'll use the weapon of words,

to contort and twist your mind,

I'll set the captives free.

It's all OK until the night,

then the nightmares come.

That's when the motions blur.

The gunshot cracks the void,

of a mind of nothing else,

but evil eyes and cross-haired sights.

At least the pavement caught me.

The broken mirror shows the man,

broken by negotiation.

An empty bottle,

a swinging rope, another new job,

no end, no hope.

Liam Nicol,

Sholing, Southampton

Daily Echo writer-in-residence Polly Clark, pictured, writes: "Lots of passion and disappointment in this dark poem, by Liam, who won a prize in the Daily Echo Poetry competition earlier this year. The poem really takes off in the penultimate verse, when Liam uses more concrete images that are very vivid."