The disillusioned Citizen
As I sit in my cold, cold house
Sticking bubble wrap to my single glaze,
The slap of the letter box like a slap to the face,
Cold as the air, in an unemployed haze.
s
Each day the horrors of my future lie in suspension
No letters of job offers, hope and acceptance; its beyond comprehension.
Dangerous ground the post man dictates,
My mood, my emotions, my worries, my fate.
s
Plenty of bills though, they keep rolling in,
Unwanted, unopened and thrown in the bin.
For their demands just cannot be met,
It’s a number of weeks till my house is for let.
s
Never have I experienced such rejection,
Something is wrong with this country, a malaise; no, an infection.
A glitch in the system, an error of ways,
The dismissal of citizens through their ivory tower gaze.
