Poem published way back in Issue 2

The Last

In the future I will write

How we were the last of a certain kind.

We were the last working class to have the choice

Of if we want to go to uni.

We were the last to remember a time

That was not filled with technology.

The last who could escape from things by running to the hills

And not be worried about losing signal.

The last to really care about politics

And not to be fooled by the distractions.

To have patience and to enjoy the quiet.

To not buy things we can’t afford

And not expect too much from social housing.

The last to ride our bike without helmets, knee pads and gum shields.

To walk ourselves to primary school and to enjoy it.

To love getting dirty and hate getting clean.

To fire BB-guns without being picked up by the police.

And it’s all happened so fast,

In my short lifetime I have seen it.

What is next to come, I dread,

I know I won’t believe it.

Yet it all passes by so quickly,

So quickly you can’t just ignore it.

Until it gets too much,

Too much to just abhor it.

What can we do?

Learnt to just get by?

But that’s not living,

That’s just surviving.

Is that we want from this chance at life?

We must adapt

And learn to live with all that is out there

Or run off to the hills

And start our own form of social housing.

A farm, some land, some peace of mind

To grow your own vegetables.

I’m sounding old, it know,

But it might be our last chance to!

I saw on the news now they’ve made a burger

Completely in a lab.

Let’s get away

Get out of here

While we still have the chance.

‘No don’t be so naïve my boy

There’s nowhere you can go to.’

J.E.G

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2 Comments Add yours

  1. Julie says:

    I think this is fab. Much better than the one about poo.
    Mx

    Like

    1. handjobzine says:

      Glad you like it Julie! Poo is an important part of life too though!

      Like

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