At seven this morning
\nI looked out the window
\nSnow all a flutter
\nLay on neighbours roofs
\nWith More and more leaves
\nBeing tugged from the branches
\nGreen became gold gold became brown
\nWhat winter achieves<\/p>\n
Who\u2019d want to be a tree
\nAt the roadside
\nFacing the cold winds
\nAnd searing snow
\nIt must be so uncomfortable
\nLosing one\u2019s cover
\nFeel the sharp frost
\nSmother
\nNot even a crow<\/p>\n
Dares venture out
\nThe eaves must be crowded
\nOne has to feel sorry
\nFor the wild friends around
\nEnsconced in the leafless
\nOr hiding in old barns
\nHaving to search in the cold
\nFrosty ground<\/p>\n
For food on the roadsides
\nCars coming dangerously
\nBeing a wild creature
\nReally is hard
\nThe afternoons darken
\nMuch sooner we notice
\nEven my room is cold
\nFor I am an old Bard <\/p>\n
My cold weather allowance
\nStolen from me
\nWearing an overcoat inside you see
\nThat\u2019s what we\u2019ve earned
\nWorking hard all these years
\nWatching Labour\u2019s freebies
\nWith quite a few tears
\nDespite the coldness
\nThe pain in my limbs
\nBritish Gas charges me
\nFive hundred pounds
\nTheir bloody directors
\nAre rolling in wealth
\nAs wild creatures and pensioners
\nShiver and groan
\nThat lot are deaf to
\nUs poor sods on our own.<\/p>\n
4000 pensioners
\nMight just flake out
\nBe lost to the world
\nJust embers that fly
\nThey worked all their lives
\nPaying tax being honest
\nAnd now at the back end of life
\nThey must die
\nEating or heating
\nBut never competing
\nThey don\u2019t hear a greeting
\nJust the government bleating<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
At seven this morning I looked out the window Snow all a flutter Lay on neighbours roofs With More and more leaves Being tugged from the branches Green became gold gold became brown What winter achieves Who\u2019d want to be … Continue reading