A poem of passing.

Times I’ve seen
seem more like a dream
a documentary
on the screen that didn’t
feel real
or that I had ever lived through it at all,

Do we paddle
while others swim?
Seeing only glimpses of the wider sea
just beyond our proximity,

Convention shaped me
a product,
data shows working-class roots
aspirational, own a home
get a job
and stick with it for life,

Do we wish
do we dream?
if we saw these times
were we not disturbed or alarmed?
did we doze off
to humanity
edited then aired on tiny screens.

Chris