A disabled child died today,
I will not divulge her name,
Yes mother and father lost an angel,
Their lives can never be the same.
Seven years old knowing only pain,
Such courage till the end,
Prime minister and his mps,
This message to you we send.
Her room lies still,
Her toys alone,
Her smile now left,
But this is not a home,
For that room tomorrow, it becomes,
Thirteen pounds...
To the heartless thugs,
Who run our country.
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Author:
nephilim56 (
Offline) - Published: August 26th, 2023 05:31
- Comment from author about the poem: After the death of a child the government gives a short space of grieving before they want bedroom tax on the childs empty room. Need I say more
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
Offline)
Comments2
Context is sometimes relevant.
Which country?
The uk
My comments on the poem "The room” by Nephilim56
This poem should haunt those heartless “persons” who claim taxes on a room belonging to a child that had died. For the thugs, the lives of the parents do not matter : public coffers matter. Taxes must come in, by all means. The short period of grieving was given out of decency. They have forgotten how, three years back, Covid sent even heads of governments to the hospital… Those guys survived only because of the best treatment made available to them… In some cases, even medical teams arrived from abroad…. They were saved only to stab the poor anonymous citizen all the more… Soman Ragavan. 26 August, 2023.
I am so grateful for your comments and I agree most heartily with your description. its something that the government likes to keep quiet
To nephilim56
Thank you. Tomorrow I will post my poem “Bedroom tax,” following your poem “The room.” In the meantime, see my poem “Advance leave, advancing death” (about Covid in Mauritius [Indian Ocean]) on allpoetry.com This poem will appear later on “mypoeticside.com”
Best wishes.
Soman Ragavan
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