The Withering State

By Lynn Ockersz

Whither-bound the ebullient youth,

The life-blood of the Isle’s sinews…?

Some are scrambling on to flimsy boats,

Hoping to get to some nether shore,

Promising a better order of things,

While others are taking on The Iron Fist,

In street jousts ending in blood-lettings;

And where could be the land’s elders,

Said to be the last word in wisdom…?

Many of them are out on the streets,

Having seen the last of their pennies,

Dying a slow, agonizing death,

With stray canines for company.