Freedom’s just another word
For let’s go out and booze,
Let’s go out, get off our tits,
There’s nothing left to lose.
All the pike are smiling as
They leap upon the floor,
Next day turn into spreaders,
Minnows seen it all before.
They see themselves as martyrs,
Who deserve to go and play,
Throw caution to the four winds,
As they rave on freedom day.
Glitter balls and ticker tape,
Midnight countdowns, sweaty hugs,
Best time of their hemmed in lives,
Callow kids with shoulder shrugs.
“We’ve got our lives back again,
It’s what we have waited for.”
I watch news convulsed with shock,
Now paranoid evermore.
I do not begrudge them fun
Remember I was once young,
But how quick this recklessness,
Feeds into the greater mess.
Now, once more, I hunker down,
Scared to venture into town,
Self inflict isolation,
From younger generation.
No more ice creams on the beach,
Normality out of reach.
Don’t trust herd experiment,
Seems we don’t have any choice,
Cares not for our elder voice.
Harry Rogers, 73 and three quarters, in The Red Bedroom, 20th July 2021