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.
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.
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.
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.