Dec 2021
Pick a little bit from the bottom of your pocket
Make a fist and hold it very tight
Grab a little courage where the fluff lives
Everything is going to be alright.
The bottom of the pocket is the safest
Curl your hand and catch your waning fight
No-one else will see your nails digging
Into palms or knuckles going white
Down in the pocket’s where your guts are
Look skywards and believe in coming light
Take hold of a fistful of pocket
And I promise you will make it through the night.
Make a fist and hold it very tight
Grab a little courage where the fluff lives
Everything is going to be alright.
The bottom of the pocket is the safest
Curl your hand and catch your waning fight
No-one else will see your nails digging
Into palms or knuckles going white
Down in the pocket’s where your guts are
Look skywards and believe in coming light
Take hold of a fistful of pocket
And I promise you will make it through the night.
I wrote this after I was admitted to hospital suffering from the effects of Covid. I was standing in a triage area, waiting to be assessed, struggling to breathe and feeling more scared than I ever recall feeling before. My hands were in my pockets, making fists and I was digging my nails into my palms as a way of trying to focus and calm myself. Thankfully, owing to the superlative care of the UK's National Health Service ('the NHS'), I made it through and was discharged six days later. I'm still recovering, and my experience has changed me - for the better, I think. Every experience should change us in some way, shouldn't it?
