Our first meeting, you talked shillings, I spoke pounds.

Saddened by what had happened to you, your life

now full of strife, at the thought of being found, and

bound by the contract.

Bereft of your home and possessions

Have we not learnt our lessons?

Troubled by the tide of information

lack of explanation, of who, what, where, and when?

No one to spare a minute: Limited to breakfast, lunch and toilet charts.

Someone please have a heart and tell me why?

I will try to keep to your schedule

If I cause too much trouble: Will you send me back?

Back to my worn out shell; a place that you thought was hell.

But where I knew my shillings

And never spoke of pounds.

All poems are copyright of the originating author.