CROYDON WRITERS

Michael's Poem, winner of the Leslie Hook Poetry Cup


How Come?

I feel lucky to be alive

And think of what I survived.

Like a second world war

And many a disease spore


Meanwhile I know a boy

I do not tell a lie

Who is beauteous of form

But with a mind grief torn


Thereby am I lucky to have a mind

Not too damaged nor forlorn

For the cards given me have been kind

And grief has so far left my heart untorn.


I tell a lie.

I had a heart attack

And a triple by’

Neither too hard a smack.


Then I see a blinded child

From shot and flame

Never again to see

I feel guilt in being me

Then I see a blinded child

From shot and flame

Never again to see

I feel guilt in being me

My friend lies sick

As sick can be

Nursed by the NHS

Everything for free


She screams at back pains

At the slightest move

Her crumbling bones

Not one vertebrae intact

And swollen body

Oedema invaded

And skin rashed over

From drugs moreover

Given against endema

And agonizing spine

Will she see the month expire

Before she meets her time?

But I sit with a twinge here

And a nagging thing there

But nothing like the rest

How come I get off best?

Croydon Writers