The clouds hang out together like bored girls
Until they form a shield with  greasy curls
The radio mumbles on about  the old
As if we are  unable to be bold

Do we not have courage as we age
When we have laid our dear ones in their grave?
We edge our way downstairs to make the tea
Sit in bed,imagine we’re at sea

Children play their games and so may we
The bed a boat,the sky as wide as eyes
Where is the navigator, do we drift?
Eclipsed our passage  through  the soft  soft mist

If life’s a Play then we may take our part
To hypnotise  the audience and their hearts

I welcome comments and criticism

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