Mum, hope all is well up in Heaven
Down here’s in a bit of a mess
The government’s made such a ‘cock up’
There are homes in financial distress
The world has gone totally crazy
Just to live is becoming a chore
The rich just get richer and richer
By draining the life from the poor
Food banks are a need and soup kitchens
Are an echo from back in the past
When Charles Dickens wrote stories of hardship
Never thinking that hardship would last
Mum you’d be gob smacked at prices
From bread to tea bags and the like
And train fares and bus fares expensive
So many now ride on their bike
It’s a pantomime world at the moment
With tales you just couldn’t make up
There’s many a poor Cinderella
Though the Barons are never hard up
Oh! Mum you would weep at the horrors
A Europe, war torn by one man
You wouldn’t believe how we live now
But we endeavour to do what we can
I hope that you’re living a rich life
One that you really deserve
Cos down here you’d be dreading the winter
And the bills that are now quite absurd
Greed has enveloped the world now
There’s also a lack of regard
“I’m all right Jack” sums up the problems
But I’m praying each night very hard
I wish you were here to pray with me
Though that’s selfish but very sincere
I suppose my world’s in such a turmoil
Because mum you’re no longer here.
by David Whitney
Torrevieja ©2022
