I wanna write about real things –
Health, education, parliamentary bills.
But where’s my right?
I don’t know shite.
No experience
Just like a kid
But I’m here
Going through it
And living each day
Muddling through
Ignoring the way
We let it all happen
Without much of a fight
We’re not farmers from France
More like a dad in tights
Chaining himself
To some railings or tree
‘Let me see my kid’
Look at me.
I’m not knocking their cause
But is that all we’ve got?
Bedroom tax
Libraries
Hospitals too
They’re taking it all
And then some more.
When the time comes
And I stand in that booth
Marking my cross
In that simple box
Doing my bit
Like I’m entitled to
I walk away crippled
Hands in pockets
Whatever the result
I’m hardly part of it.
One little vote
That’s all I do
Hoping my kids
Will have a job one day.
I can’t promise them that
Nobody can
And that’s what’s real
And that’s why I write
A handful of words
About our simple plight
Of loving my family
And doing what’s right.
Damned if we don’t.
Damned if we try.

P.S. – I know I could do more than just cast my vote. I could campaign or protest. Fight for things in my local area, BUT… and there it is. BUT… who am I to think I can make a difference?? Am I Reg Keys or Muhammad Ali. Neither. I’m just some guy called Steve. I feel aggrieved that things are so wrong and I’ll tell my children to question things when they’re old enough to understand. For now, I fight my own personal battles, as many people do.
It would be a remarkable sight if we could harness all that and throw it at the big stuff. BUT, for now…