Fridays were special,
work was plentiful;
when the job centre found you.
Now just any other day —
yet blacker,
more dastardly,
that Friday feeling
banished forever
to that distant land
called happiness.
Gold fish in a bowl
Endless demented circling
Who’s the first to speak?
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
I follow you,
my Buddha in the being,
born to fame and luxury,
subject to loss and tragedy.
You lead a life of example,
of peace and patience.
I judge you by what is done,
not by what you say,
though such few words
have meaning
Better a good man
Rather than one who is great
I can follow you
copyright Francis Barker 2020
I wish we could agree.
Our difference of opinion
enflames the things unsaid.
So we skirt around the issue
whilst I remained perplexed:
Whatever happened to your
rebellious youth?
And why am I the radical?
Brainwashed opinion
Open mindedness thrown out
Worn out paradigm
copyright Francis Barker 2020
Ciscography 