Misery. Britain.

Two poems from one prompt today.

Misery

Misery treats itself to an espresso
In one of the many hardly populated
Cafés in the city centre. It chooses
To sit right by the window, in a
Couple, so the broken people
Outside can see what despair
Is really like. And so the two halves
Of the same thing sit opposite
Each other and stare at their
Phones and blindly vent to
Everyone instead of making each
Other happy with better words.

R 29/04/2025 14:12 Norwich Library

Britain

It’s been written before that Britain’s
Broken, England’s dying, no future,
And what’s been reborn before has
Been not a phoenix but the same
Kind of vermin looking back, the
Kind that vents about foreigners
And empire and purity and
Sovereignty without understanding,
The sort that won’t work honestly,
Just grifts, avoids taxes, incites and
Betrays. This death of this place
This time will be permanent.

R 29/04/2025 14:16 Norwich Library