Stuck between
Sense and bohemia
Hoping my son
When he grows
Will take his belle or beau
Into the woods
And explore
Feel the excitement
Of skin and leaves
And bark
And ferny floor
Like I once might
And might once more
Yet inhibited
By the fear
That what
We all we hold dear
Is so quickly taken
In a world so harsh
When we want
To run free
Embrace love and life
Feel the things
We don't see
But constrained
By the knowledge
Or perhaps
A new reality.

If we had a pound
for every time we say I love you
we would be rich in a week
and even more so
if that included
all the times
it’s said in thought,
but not to speak

Your childhood was taken
By a society broken
Each day spent in chores
In care for your mother
Seeking water and food
No time to explore
Your imagination, or find yourself
Instead dampened spirit
Becoming numb to the core

And whilst you watch
Your friends play in the street
You kick the dust at your feet
Which you hopelessly
Sweep each day, house proud
But wondering whether
You’ll eat today, and how
It could ever change
Will it always be this way?

If we had a pound
for every time we say I love you
we would be rich in a week
and even more so
if that included
all the times it’s said in thought,
but not to speak

Although we are still paupers
in the way that the world
appraises wealth
we are richer than ever
with more love, more tears,
explorations of togetherness,
of emotions, and of self.

Why isn't it like in the movies?
I thought that's how it would be
But there's no windswept kiss
Or romantic triste
Instead, I live my love vicariously

The films promised a one and only
Or at least a handsome lover
But when the last one left
I remained bereft
I can't seem to find another

I could have won best actress award
Oh, the nights, how I cried and cried
Stayed in bed for days
Whilst counting the ways
That my ****** Jane Austen had lied

Perhaps there is no Mr Darcy
Or even a Mr Gray
I'd be happy with a simple soul
But while my heart's on parole
I'm stuck in a Groundhog Day

No Sliding Doors romance for me
No Love Actually, no fun and laughter
My hope has gone
Of that special one
Or my happy ever after

I'm on the train, it's six o'clock
With a hunger bomb, tick tock, tick tock
Which at any moment, will explode
My weight loss goals start to implode
Why not have a small baguette
Who needs a diet, just forget
No one knows, it's not a sin
Just buy that chocolate, stuff it in
How dangerous can a latte be
With that biscuit pack that comes for free
Or maybe just a little wine
Along with nuts, go on it's fine
Determined, I shut out the voice
Stay in charge, I have a choice
I sip some water, shun a snack
And pat myself upon the back

At the bus stop on Praed Street
Just arrived on the train
Awaiting the  bus, in drizzly rain

On the opposite side
Outside Paddington station
Is the evidence that we are a fast food nation

Burger King, Le gourmet brasserie, Chelsea deli, KFC, Subway, La Taarza cafe, Bagel factory, Costa, Chicken cottage, Bonne Bouch, Victors cafe
I can't see much more
But there are further food stores

We must be obsessed
With coffee and food
Can this be good?

Our waist lines are growing
Our pockets are empty
Yet there's fast food a plenty

There must be a market
They are filling a need
Is it our laziness or greed?