Misty Morning, tunnel exit Radio blaring. Yet more Brexit Shipyards looming in the mist Coffee. Top of this checklist
Distantly spied, Golden Arches glisten Dumbly calling those who listen Desperate homeless huddled outside Callous addiction stealing his pride
Inside the feckless locals gather Of nameless baby dads they caw & blather No sign of insight, syns nor points Weight of burgers on their joints
Red-eyed middle management jostle for WiFi Ketchup spilt upon his tie Spreadsheets, targets, bonuses forgotten Awareness at last. This lunch is rotten
Light bursting inside his head Realising how easily he's been led A new day. A Golden New Dawn A middle-management minion reborn
Now with joy. Now with flourish New skills, his mind does nourish Never Stop. Ignore what they say And make this day. Make this day. Make this the day.
Written on a misty morning in Birkenhead. A McDonalds on the A41, overlooking the Cammell-Laird Shipyards provided the coffee.