The ‘Pillock’
The ‘Pillock’
The Pillock walks by with its head hanging low,
They just follow their feet wherever they go,
No time for another engrossed in their own,
The Pillock entranced by their own mobile phone.
Not lifting their head to observe on the day,
The Pillock drifts by in their own silent way,
No time for ‘hello’ or even ‘goodbye’,
The Pillock is lost and they never know why.
All fingers and thumbs and all eyes to the screen,
A soulful existence alone and serene,
A pout to be given, a picture to give,
A ‘like’ to be taken, a life not to live.
The Pillock is many and hidden to life,
A sister, a brother, a husband, a wife,
All guilty of leaving the real world behind,
The Pillock is many, the Pillock, is blind!.
Mick.
( Copyright Michael Westwood ).
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