By BernardYoung

Coming Into Land

‘How are the mighty fallen’

With no obvious talent for flying, no
feathers, no wings, and no turbo-jet on show,

we’d like to know - did you receive a helping
hand? Did a tornado lift you, scared, yelping,

up among the seagulls, and then higher still,
till you were a threat to planes? Out of control,

and lost, is that how you ended up above
us? Well, it’s now looking like it’s the end of

the high life for you. You’ve started descending
at quite a rate (as if you’re late for something!).

Unless you slow down you’ll need to hit the ground
running, otherwise we’ll be hearing the sound

of you falling flat on your face, or your bum,
with momentum propelling you overland till your mum

no longer recognises you. You’ll be red
raw, a mess, ruined, fallen, most likely dead.

Lonely At The Top

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