Another day of endless senseless idle traffic

Of puerile conversations about the weather

Another day of imbeciles and continuous cigarettes

Of rattling off adjectives and verbs

In order to find the right words to describe

What is actually seen and felt

Another day of endless itching that can’t be scratched

With merciless rantings about the state of parliament, the country

And the clowns at the top

Another day of somebody’s tree being rattled

At all that has happened

Which actually doesn’t affect them directly

But they are feeling out of sorts

Another day of if’s and buts and maybe’s

With long hard sighs

And I wish I knew the answer

But do not

Another day of me

Good grief how do you put up with it?