If I am sure of one thing I am sure of that.

If I am sure of one thing I am sure of that.

Push back

Hold on to the rail

You lean against

It is not a weapon

But an aid to balance

The injustice.

The ground below

Is a little shaky

Tremors creep up through the floor

Unless it really is top down

A strange sensation

A vibrating gut

Light headed

With an occasional starburst

Not vertigo exactly

A complaint of the inner ear

But a world

Of dizzying paraphernalia

If you believe the propaganda

A satanic pit

Reconstructed on the site of

Ye olde world

Cotton mills

Hell holes for some

Now bathed in nostalgia

Rebuilt as heritage sites

A tribute to merry England

We are torn

Between a past and present

Too full of itself

A bleery Friday night concept

Short of an idea

Shake me up

My contents have settled

Over time

Come together and

Follow fake news on social media

Now is the hour

For the grumpy and discontent

Who shuffle out

For a smoke

In the morning dew

Wear open toed shoes

Or carpet slippers

Like old folk

Be a malcontent

Go barefoot

Stilettos can be dangerous

Too sharp

By half

Remove them upon entering

Any new data

As the dirt gets everywhere

And push back

Before the walls fall down.