As he lay down,
His feet curled up from the ground;
The only thing that he found, as he drowned,
No rescue unfolded.
And yes, loathèd!
A clever lover would mother,
No detriment to pass from one to the other.
Now kissed and cuddled,
Hopeful but muddled.
If one is ill, we are ill!
When one is felled, ring the bells;
Lest they toll not for thee.
Disabled Exile 2017.
I heard a Councillor talking about the need to move beggars on from Leeds town centre as it wasn’t “aesthetically pleasing”. Vacuous