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The Drive back from Queen Victoria Hospital


 

 

I wish that life were free from trouble

 

Instead, my mind’s in quite a muddle

 

With budgets running through my head

 

It’s often when it’s time for bed

 

I bought these coats they should go back

 

Why did I hang them on the rack?

 

With prices running through the roof

 

If only someone had the proof

 

Of where my taxes go each day

 

I’m asking you Theresa May!

 

These potholes are a daily grind

 

"kinda tricky driving when you’re blind”

 

Is what I say when I commute

 

And 30 miles is quite a hoot

 

To take a patient to be seen

 

We won’t complain it’s in the gene!

 

 

You Build, they come, we’re out of space

 

We haven’t got the school to face

 

They do have kids, they need a place

 

To Learn to read & run and chase!

 

 

The roads are busy n schools are full

 

You’re feeding us a pile of bull!

 

And tricking us to vote for Brexit

 

My Mother-in-law did vote for Grexit

 

and all because she was born and bred

 

In Greece n forgot she’s mostly fed

 

In Cornwall where her aunt did settle

 

I’m telling you she does love Dettol!

 

 

At 78 and lives alone

 

She watches soaps and likes a moan

 

But also likes to watch the news

 

And one of those who pays her dues

 

Enough of her and all the holes

 

 

How about the working poles?

 

I have a few deserving friends

 

Who set up shop and make amends

 

What will happen when you say:

 

“Earn 30k or move away”?

 

I wish you knew our daily life

 

That’s full of pain and hurt and strife

 

 

You’re threatening me not to bite

 

And yet I’m here and see the light

 

 

But sending kids to school at 4

 

With working mummies out the door

 

At 6 to chase their daily bread

 

Because their babies must be fed?

 

And dressed and clothed to just be puppets

 

When all they want to do is shove it

 

 

They work away and miss them growing

 

Their loved ones change and they not knowing

 

Is surely rather quite a crime?

 

Because they ought to make a dime

 

 

And then we have the kids from Yemen

 

And Saudi’s sending them to heaven

 

My life is easy in circumspect

 

If only I could disconnect.




I often express myself by writing. It is amazing to see the transformation, once we get those thoughts written down in one place and the effect of that is my mind feels less of a mangled mess. This poem was written after a long drive coming back from taking my mum to have an appointment with the consultant. I sent this to my MP and this is what he had to say.






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