Wednesday, 30 September 2015

Status Quo

In wild and stormy, harshland blocks,
wet pillars stoney-faced and eyelid
thin, the cots within of hungry cries,
wide-mouthed to take the driving rain,

and chase away the milk of grey
from state to State to empty plate;
parents without parents in poverty;
breadcrumbs floating on a silver lake,

a spoon removed from gloopy mess
by Blue-encrusted sticky fingers,
laid bare the many needs for more,
the young grow old without growth.