Under The Bridge January 18th 2021
Under the bridge where the water flows past
Is a man in a bed who is free at last.
He lived in this place in his ragged clothes
When people went by they turned up their nose.
He had no TV or internet connection
He had no means to vote in the election.
Pictures in his head while he froze in the Cold
Wondering how he lived to be so old.
Down in the town he would beg for food
Eating scraps improved his mood.
His water came from the mouldering canal
This was his world, a private hell.
How did he get here, did he come by boat
How come his life just didn’t float.
It did for a while, he had a house
There he lived like a little mouse.
Lost his job at the stroke of a pen
Man in the office said he didn’t need men.
The world was changing, all re arranged
It helped you survive if you were deranged.
His wife went to work and he lost her approval
She called the police who sorted his removal.
She said he had started speaking out of turn
Not good enough now he couldn’t earn.
She had a job at the local bank
Then ran off with a very rich Yank.
She took him to court for his abuse
When truth be told he was no more use.
She copped the lot of his life time achievement
So off he walked with his bereavement
All squeezed into two battered cases,
He was just another loser in the human races.
Robert Cook January 18th 2021
Never Stop – by Robert Cook
Never Stop – by Robert Cook
Helen , Barbara and You
Three loves that were true
I see them all in all their glory
Each one had their very own story.
Helen was a girl way too pretty
Lived in the north of my favourite city
Way to young for a fool like me
She was the one I shouldn’t see.
Barbara was mature and sophisticated
She was the one I loved and hated
Way to cool and smart for me
Though maybe not, just couldn’t see
Then along came you to my desolation
Way to close like my relation
Still I muse but cannot say
Were you night, or were you day ?
I never knew, there was no chance
We didn’t walk & didn’t dance.
We played our music, sang our song
We loved a while but not for long.
Life is short, we made it shorter
Were you my love or long lost daughter ?
When we singers sing and write
We play with dark, we play with light.
We take the world that gives us pain
If we were normal we’d be insane.
All these things are as they are
Sometimes near or way too far.
As they say, you can’t return
You can’t pay if you don’t earn
Earning love is is earning pain
Mainly loss for little gain .
The world for me was once elastic,
Now all things melt like cheap plastic.
We find ourselves through mainstream media
Love is lost, its all much seedier.
Still old friends where ever now
Just accept it all, don’t ask how.
Keep on moving till you drop.
Keep on hoping, never stop.
Robert Cook January 19th 2021
Imagine the sound, London Underground 2010.