The night visitors…

Again the demons called last night
To plunge me into depths of fright
I reach for spray and balm-filled spoon
Their benefit ripped away too soon.
And all the agonies of my life
Roll before my eyes as strife
Until a wreck, I finally sleep
She who loves me will quietly weep.
As there beside me yet again
She helps to fight what is no friend
And when I wake she soothes my brow
To bring me back to here and now.
Yet pain is etched on her sweet face
I’m once more smitten by her grace.

©Joe Wilson – The night visitors…2016

The Caring Society

Looking back I see a time when people just did what they did
They didn’t need or get a special award for doing it
They just set to and got on with the task  –  that was how things were
The media focuses on the bad and the rest has become a blur.

Today I heard of yet another such award, this time in mental health
The award will be given to those who work very hard…doing their job
I refer you back to my first two lines, for that is how it was
People never needed recognition to care for someone else.

But truth is it’s not the people who day by day work so hard
It’s the heads of these services and government who cover it up so well
The failings in their decisions that create a kind of hell
For the unfortunate ones in difficulty   –   and the carers who just daren’t tell.

©JRW2014