A lot of modern poetry is too hard to understand,
it has become too complicated for the uninitiated or casual reader.
These poems are by an ordinary bloke, for ordinary folk. © Chris Daws
Thursday, 21 February 2013
A Day
Seven o'clock to London Waterloo
across the bridge and take the district line
Every morning this is what I do
Travelling to Whitechapel by nine
Then in the evening back the way I came
ride the tube then take the train back home
My kids don't know my face, just know my name
I read them stories through my mobile phone
This is the measure of a modern life
Four hours back and forth in every day
Nine hours in the office, full of strife
Fewer hours at home, too tired to play
Then finally it's over I've retired
More time to spend with family I say
My kids have grown and left, the dog's expired
My wife's a stranger,
what to fill each day?