BOOMER
Speak up. I am listening.
I appreciate the energy
The thrust of your young voice.
But if you offer enmity,
To condemn my seniority,
then deafness is my choice.
I cannot help when I was born
And likewise, nor can you.
I am sorry I’m too old to work
But biology has burned me out
My pension isn’t paid for shirking
My bus pass helps me get about.
You give the ballot box a miss
We vote, to honour sacrifice
By those who’ve gone before;
Pushing for our polling rights
To bring us hope, some progress, light,
To make the rich respect the poor.
I cannot help my ancient state
In these, my autumn years
I understand your restlessness
With my contentment and old age
So make your cross within the box
And give voice to your rage.