.

Mrs Duncan sits in her wheelchair
letting family and friends
press food into her hands,
and tissues to her dry eyes

a single framed photo
graces the polished sideboard.
his long, gentle face, surrounded
by cards and flowers,
smiles out at those gathered there

Mrs Duncan seems indifferent

their youngest daughter, a black beetle,
scurries between kitchen and lounge room
with plate after plate after plate
of food

activity keeps her from screaming

The tongue of those who can't relate to struggles of the sickly,
Those who don't know what it's like to suffer in silence
From an auto immune disease (multiple sclerosis)
Keeps me depressed and oppressed.

Glaucoma has taken my sight rendered my driving useless
The dimness in my right eye has me wondering
If my left eye will follow.

Figures walking by with blurred faces
Eyes are no more like empty sockets
Shadows in my peripheral.

6th June 1944

I was only two and a bit,
but I remember you.
In that you flew over little me,
I saw the sky filled with planes.

The ones towed behind,
never to return again.
As the soldiers that they held,
to save us, not themselves.

I cry for you even now.
They have told me all my life,
that you gave yours.
Without thought so freely.

My memory could not see,
the pain in body and mind.
Where death stalked you,
to save those left behind

By Ian Thomson

The economic situation in the European nations
Is the reason why our savings disappear
For the banks gave all our money
To their pals, who think it’s funny,
To get free loans for champagne and high-strength beer

This social deprivation leads to food banks, near starvation
But our feathered friends seem happy with their lot
For although we’re nearly skint,
Those seabirds seem to have a mint,
Put deposits on new cars they haven’t bought.