Monthly Archives: March 2015

Apathetic Voter by Carol Robson

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Apathetic Voter

Apathetic Voter

Apathetic Voter

Things will never change
If you don’t get your arse in gear
Apathy is your life’s trait
Thinking Yes! I’m alright mate.
Continuous fucking moaning
Belching from your mouth
This country’s going to the dogs
That is your usual spout.
Do something, get off your arse and vote.

Yet! you’re the public house transmission
Or living room politician
Always giving it large
To anyone who’ll listen
You’re in your face utter barrage
Fucking hell, don’t become a Farrage
Do something, get off your arse and vote

Don’t be the non-voter
Become the opinion poll floater
Public house transmission
Living room politician
Stop your fucking moaning
Just do your frigging voting
©Carol Robson 2015

Smash That Glass Ceiling.

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Speak your loud words
Break your chains
Nay!
Shout your loud words
Break life’s chains
Stop!
Discrimination
Cronyism
Scream louder your words
Smash!
That fucking glass ceiling.
Carol Robson 2015.

Hometown by Carol Robson

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Hometown

This poem is about my hometown Rotherham.

HOMETOWN

Walking through the centre
my hometown,
a warm night, Saturday night.
Minster clock shines ten,
police sirens now a distant fade,
earlier, mouthy drunks
with EDL language
removed from the pub,
that I just left.

Yet! Silence runs through
to distant voices
standing on
smokey pub pavements,
town centre,
Saturday night.

Barren concrete,
no shadowy figures
for cameras to watch,
empty benches,
now the resting place
for the lone beer can
of a previous tenant.

Still devoid,
no town square voices
as I wait for tumbleweed
to roll in from side-streets
to converge
in the square
of disillusioned hopes,
unfulfilled dreams
of Jamie Oliver,
or even Mary Portas,
in this nightly ghost town,
where all have left.
Yet! It will be,
forever,
My Hometown.
©Carol Robson 2015