Dear 2022, I know you tried,
but there were plenty of people
who did not comply,
with the hopes that a hangover
of two horrid years,
would soften the blow,
minimise the tears,
many loved ones were indeed missing,
and those in “the glitz” were hissing,
defaming, and slapping their brother,
ensuring the same hate
for one another,
then in Blighty, a revolving door,
was installed; by both commons and Whitehall,
adding more colour to caricature,
making more dents, in broken culture,
then to me, it all becomes too much,
so in sleeping, my pillow, I do clutch,
to repeat my age old selfish dream,
in order to make the scenes “more clean”,
I witness the breaking of necks,
of unimaginative sheep,
who are afraid of change,
those slaves to trends,
who stain the page,
then I sit, in golden silence,
until I am woken, by real sirens,
it was just a dream, and my feelings are coarse,
but before the year is out, we need to force,
greater possibilities of actual progress,
if not, humanity’s epitaph would read “what a mess!”
I will try to love you, and I will try to love me,
so, in such attempts, let’s all heal in 2023,
for there is so much, that is still to be done,
as our road to redemption, has barely begun!