Illustration by John Sadler www.johnsadlerillustration.com

• SITTING in my tiny flat
Surveying my lonely habitat
Staring at my empty road
With empty buses once filled of crowds.
The blinds are down on pub and shop
Just ghosts walk the street
Cold and grey beneath their feet.
My skin is crawling, I’m hot then cold
Not happy I’m old
Just old enough to be first in the queue
Life is changing maybe for the better
I can’t find bread, can’t steal butter.
Is there love, is there hope?
Not sure I can cope.
I won’t be fine, I’m not online.
My chat has snapped, my face shows time.
I’m out of sync odd and broken
Got no ticket, got no token.
Can you hear, can you see?
My irrelevancy
Never prevalent in people’s mind
Socially dead and thoughts unkind.
I hate, I love, don’t understand desire
To marry young and then retire
Have babies you don’t bring up
Left to others while you sup
My head’s not high and my stride not proud
The kids are too loud.
Will you notice when I’m not there
Do you see, do you care?
I’ll disappear, I won’t be missed
Not in the book, not on the list
Not on the phone, nor on the line
I’m sad and bitter and I’ll know in time
I must go, I must depart.
I’ll meet you in hell in my handcart.

AN OLD LADY
Tufnell Park, N19