Monday, 3 October 2016

Work work work

A Poem from my 2009 archive....

Possibly run by Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dee,
Britain blinked to find a shattered economy,
In whom do we trust and what’s it all for?
As; for pennies we scramble around of the floor,

Stuck in a rut with shrouded vision,
What do I need with multiple division?
It may pay the bills but smile I will not,
As each day I turn up like the other robots,

Drilled down to the ‘Toads’ that Larkin depicted,
The labours of work seem to have inflicted,
Inability to see beyond the routine,
Scared to step out and reach for what be the dream,

What be the dream, what be it indeed?
Far off and forgotten, too consumed in greed,
To bother to pick up the sullen head,
Plonked in the sand is easier instead,

But the bold and the beautiful, they’ll find their way,
By pushing the boundaries, unashamed to stray,
From the comfort and fear of their monotonous work,
To seek what more out there might lurk,

Economy, on you we should not excuse,
Our lack of assertiveness, that new pair of shoes,
Instead we should look within our very selves,
Before we’re choking in dust up on the shelves.

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