How low?

And would you take a great delight, in seeing people in the night, ‘rough – sleeping’,
And while you have a ‘feathered bed’, and them nowhere to rest their head, for keeping,
And in this unkind and cruel day, are you content to have your way observing,
And looking on at all of this, as proud men take the serpent’s kiss undeserving?

Is this all Britain now can give, a cruel despotic way to live, most grieving,
Is poverty our lowest point, is dignity and charity now leaving,
Does politics so rule the stage, that in this ‘God forsaken age’ we’re sighing,
Where old and poor, can do no more,  are dying?

Mick
(Copyright Michael Westwood 2015)