#Brexit – The Never Ever Ending Story #poetry

With this ongoing dramatics,

I cannot see an end,

It’s Brexit, without Brexit,

And I’m going round the bend.

One more thing to not deal with…

When you’re down, people often don’t see you,

and instead of stepping over you

they tread on you,

and it hurts.

 

Little things alone, well they seem okay,

but together they seem to add up to

a lot more, then more,

then one more thing not to deal with.

 

Having problems is a problem, which is a rather ironic fact,

but not one that is amusing or easy to deal with,

so added together, the sum of all problems,

is greater than the problem itself.

 

Let us not pretend that these problems are really that bad,

They are not, I eat, live, breath, have a home family, friends,

but then that’s not the issue, the issue is relative,

and I do not cope in any manner,

 

just one more thing…

Words

There is something magical about words,

Conjuring up thoughts and images,

What you think may not be shared by another,

Or be shared by all,

Inspiring,

Perhaps one solitary word can help change the World,

Revolution?

 

 

I don’t know every word,

Nor do I use every one I know,

But like others I have my favourites,

Today, it is pootle,

And yes,

today,

I have pootled about.

 

 

I had cross words with someone who nearly ran me over,

They were on their phone whilst reversing their car,

But she decided that no apology would be forthcoming,

Rather she tried to berate my dog,

Telling me not to let her foul the pavement,

Strange how when challenged,

Words turn to insults,

to threats,

rather than to apology,

After all,

my dog just wanted to go for her daily pootle too.

 

 

But words hurt,

Sharp,

Pointy words,

Stab,

Cut and bleed you,

I much prefer what I call curvy words,

That embrace,

Hug,

And protect you.

 

Maybe I shouldn’t take things to heart,

But then that’s why I am me,

I have a big heart,

And a low pain threshold…

 

 

Perhaps I’d better just pootle in silence.