Butterflies wings will beat as they fly,
Fluffy clouds will move in the sky.
Rain will fall without warning,
Night will turn to morning.
Televisions shout of repetition,
In this new age tradition,
Sat in our chairs day after day,
Hiding inside to escape a single ray.
Games are addictive to our minds,
curtains still drawn and so are the blinds.
Where are the ball games we oh so love?
Where are the sun rays from above?
Walks in the park are hard to find,
Daddy's at work and mummy's declined.
There's not enough money to keep us afloat,
She's off to work with a catch in her throat.
No job to go to but CVs to hand out,
This is our everlasting drought.
No pennies to spend on a loaf of bread,
No words to say which are unsaid.
This will not get better as time goes on,
Turning from little to none.
Time may stop but food is no where,
The shops are full but the table is bare.
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