A poem from 2017
It builds up until we can’t take it any more
I don’t know if we’re actively complicit
Or we just sit there, powerless
Magpies like shiny things and steal them
Can they be reasoned with?
Can you persuade them to give it all back
And make reparation on top of that
Or will they insist on feathering their nest at our expense
You may find the occasional repentant sinner
Can we sit down with them and talk?
Win their trust and then capture them
Making them tell us where they stashed the dough?
Uprisings come and uprisings go
Few and far between, they bring joy in the morning
But by tea time a new mini-dictator comes with smiles and promises
You know it won’t last but still you are happy
A self-deception? In denial? A yearning?
Power corrupts, but it can only corrupt an unrighteous man
A prince of peace is needed
A wonderful counsellor
A heavenly army
Flush out this detritus
Remove the mess we’ve made
Turn our suits into t-shirts
Give us all a holiday
Share the spoils
Treat us well
Serve the people
Plead for mercy
Weep for yourselves
The bells are silent
Where are we going?
To whom can we go?
