Tom Bell is 21 years old and is a content writer by trade. He usually writes about what’s happening in the horological world such as new updates or releases. Outside of this professional writing, Tom Bell is an avid poet, cramming out all his thoughts onto a page and hope’s one day they’ll stick.

He wasn’t always so lucky in being a full time content writer. Previous jobs included being a gardener, a leafleter and even an apprentice solicitor. This wide range of careers has been a source of inspiration and has allowed him to craft personalized poems which many people are able to relate to.

Residing in Matlock, Derbyshire above a Vets, Tom Bell hopes to land the next big break and keep pushing forwards with his poetry, all while hopefully influencing a few folks along the way.

I’ve Found Mine

I picture us on a Spanish island
Somewhere where the suns a maid
Thats always by the door

She’ll come in with the usual housekeeping call
Brighten up a darker morn
A welcome face in turbulence

I picture us on cliffsides
The threat of going overboard
Always on the edge

Not for sadness or struggle
Just to know you'd cry if I did

What about round a fireplace
Smoking a fat old cigar
In a pinstripe suit like some corporate shill
Who’s just found out its payday

Id keep the beer belly trim
Keep the smoking down to a minimum
Save the nose for smelling the perfumes 
Of a silk dressing gown

What if it all went wrong
Tears by the bed
Long walks into the night
A real kick in the head

Id think the ash would grow higher on the walls
The belt a little looser
My veins pulsing with a little more than blood

Not for selfishness or a cry for help
I think I’d call it off
Pack a bag and call it quits

Head for some seaside town 
Where its just charity shops with nothing to give
Stray dogs hound you for scraps
No women no love no sleep


Maybe I’d cozy on up to a life 
That's well out of my mind
Everyday wishing and praying
Take me now, its time

I’d hope when i reach those gates
You’ll have forgiven me
For what I’ve done did or didn't

If they didn't let you in I’d protest
Get a petition going for change
Get some oil for those hinges
Cause they must be rusty to not let you in

No chance? Well, we’ll start our own
A little spot for those who didn't make the grade
Few strobe lights, a little sofa with a TV
Like the old times

Dont beg for my return
No more salesman with halos
Giving me dreams of eternity 
I’ve found mine

It’s Not Over Just Yet

There's a real thing against crying
Its roots are deep and have grown against the grain
Of what we are

Our very fabric can be cut and weep streams of red
Would we shed a tear then
When bleeding out on a battlefield

When all is lost
You’re told to remain optimistic
You cry
When you’ve been strong for too long

Look at your hands
The lines of generations 
Did they cry
When their mother died
Did they cry
When all was lost


Let them fall
Let them cement you as a human
Your feet touch real things
Your words touch real hearts
Think about what you bring

Hell, I’ll cry with you
I’ll hold your trembling hands
A few words of reason
But not enough to understand

I don't know who you are
But I know it won't blow over 
Don't let life beat you
Take back what is yours, my friends

When your soul is racing
Race it to my arms
We’ll walk it to submission
Slow it down, Take a pause

Rise against the kicking
Push back against the grain
You will not be blamed
For crying
It's not over

Realism In Romance

A young man rested for a while
The worlds a big old place for you to decide
What's right or wrong

It's also too small
Compared to others
Why are we the lucky ones?

So we can think
Talk 
Speak
Walk

The same people that tell you there's freedom
Under watchful eyes
Will repress you


Convert and accept
Revert and let
Your thoughts die

Keep searching for a reason
Look past the texts
The lines
The swift wrists romanticizing what we are

The nymphs have gone
The way of the T-Rex
Struck down with truth
That everything ends

We like to lay down the truth
On dreamers
Feels good to crush em
Like a bug crawling from under 

Your 4 bedroom house
With plasma TV
Latest shows and movies
Art from some Italian
Indifferent wife
Private bonds and equity

To the trees
It’s version of a good time

Dress how you wish
Smile if you want to
Screw whether God forgives

What you are isn't a crime
Freedom to believe and shuffle
Between the evergreens and the roses
One remains the same
One takes time to love
With its thorny hands

You want out-of-body?
Shoot for the stars
Drink like there’s no tomorrow
Just don't break a heart


Live with each other
Not out of regret
Or enforcement
Live for love