I'm Sick.

       April 23rd. another day another poem, another one from the 80's but times haven't changed that much have they?

I'm Sick.

I'm sick of missing the theatre

when "The greatest show on earth",

arrives in town.

Sick of living through the winter

with the heating turned down.

I'm sick of seeing my kids

miss out on this and that.

Sick of living with dampness

in a run down council flat.

I'm sick of having beans on toast

every other day.

Sick of TV shows extolling

a healthy lifestyle way.

I'm sick of wearing the same old jacket

hail, rain, or shine.

Sick of being told

the problem's really mine.

I'm sick of being a statistic

in some ministerial debate.

Sick of quietly letting

them decide my fate.

I'm sick of being offered work

if I accept a lower wage.

Sick of trying to control

this bubbling pent-up rage.

I'm sick ------------

I'm not,   really sick,

though I soon will be,

I'm just obliged to live

on benefit.

ann arky's home.