I Paint a pretty picture

I never went down the mines.
I did not lose my community,
my self, my worth.
They did though.
I remember the poll tax,
as a kid, even that young
I worried.
The fighting.
The anger.
Yes, that is what  I remember.
The anger.
I remember the Falklands war.
It scared me shitless.
I won’t lie.
I had no clue
except I thought
that we might die.
I had done history
and through my child’s eye,
even I knew that was close.
Nothing has changed.
Only got worse.
Want, need, control
and desire.
This is no better world.
I continue to fear
as I casually go along my
daily jaunt.
Keep a smile on my kids face.
Hoping they don’t procreate,
It is a pretty picture that I paint.
Of a life that spirals me
into despair.

4 thoughts on “I Paint a pretty picture

  1. Nice, I was a little older and lived in a thatcher effected area. But we lived and things got better – good write

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