Broken Britain Broken Britain. Battered, bruised, and bleeding, But not yet buried in the churchyard of history, Like a pensioner she stubbornly staggers on, Stuttering, muttering to herself, Of days when she had family all over globe, And as head of the house, She was respected, Friends were chosen carefully, Selected because of their influence and power, Now those who were once close, Have distanced themselves, From someone who they can clearly see, Is a shadow of the woman she used to be, When her swagger dominated every stage, And she was master of all she surveyed, This is no longer the case. its not just those in remote far flung places who are isolated now but sons and daughters much closer to home who watch anxiously presiding over their family’s painful demise some cannot disguise their delight that the day of a domineering parent will soon be at an end whilst others grip tighter than ever to their father’s coat-tails trying to convince themselves this is not happening but this delusion can only last for so long before fate and reality take a hand and someone with everyone’s best interests at heart switches off the life support machine. @ Gayle Smith 2009
Posted on: Tue, 09 Jul 2013 02:53:04 +0000
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