Today’s poem

The noonday sun unsettles them. It draws them from their places. Their blinking, sleepen crusted eyes Set deep in ashen faces.

They shuffle out towards the light, Lethargic to their bones; Some with trembling fingers Clutching comfort blanket phones.

Some with painful legacies Of pointless drunken brawls, Emerging from their fetid caves Known, puzzlingly, as ‘halls’.

No one feeds them, makes their beds — Unprecedented pressures. Behold the primitive primate species — Homo Sapiens Freshers. m. Gregory, redditch, Worcs.