But 'far-too-old!' to play and sleep
They drive us night and day
like herds of cattle, forced to read
'Look to your future 'ole girl', he'd hiss
'I wish, old man'- he'd never guess- 'and leave just all of this'
Because then I'm seated in First Class first
A night, a new country- for a new day
And round my neck, expensive glass
A doting man would wave my way
I'd speak of things that'd help the world
And strategies to change Her ways
And when I'd have them by the rope,
Like Ghandi, raise my hands in hope
For now though, I realise
This wooden desk will suffice
And these glamorous wooden dolls,
Will lend me a silent applause.
No comments:
Post a Comment