Friday, 18 December 2020

Unseen 

The tide flows and changes, swishing in and out, periodically like a tsunami, destruction comes about, it quite often astounds me, how a person recovers from this, nothing left but fragments with memories of ones you miss. 

Give a swathe of Joy to darken many door, is this what we teach every girl and boy? Is England proud of, “I’m okay” instead of “I am great”, hoping that one day in the future with a shows of hands, a miracle will turnaround change to our apathetic land.

It’s a mournful situation to allow sorrow, sadness, homelessness, hunger, does wealth have its tow? , there are many impoverished in the world that will never really know, mothers cannot breast feed undernourished with no milk, they have never felt the comfort of a sleep in a bed, with sheets made from silk

Let the children come to me, not a slap across the face, mothers too poor for Christmas presents with the cost of make up and lace, Christmas is a time of Joy when Santa arrives in the night, what will you receive this year,? rich givings I suspect while those who have nothing to live for are just  happy to be alive 

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