I guess that would be my accident, when I got burned. Most won’t understand how that could be positive, but it reminded me I was slipping back into my old ways after my letter from Mr Cancer. It seams a little cruel sometimes, it’s not like I’m doing great things, I’m just a tiny pebble being thrown into a massive pond, trying to make the ripples spread.

Milestones or Jam Scones.

What is it that drives me on, is it my own conscience?
I’m not a perfect person, I say in my own defence,
So why these cruel reminders to keep on the track,
First cancer then the burns. Don’t put me on the rack.

Milestones or jam scones ? Id rather have the latter,
I’m just a tiny person, I don’t really think I matter.
Hitler, Putin, Trump, these sort need reminders,
Why when history is written, is it these creatures that define us.

When all the dust’s died down, the world lies derelict and broken,
Who’s going to remember the tiny words I have spoken.
It would take billions of us, to make any real difference,
But instead there’s billions blinkered, and sitting on the fence.

Please help me now, I’ll carry on the fight,
I don’t mind banging my head, or the sleepless nights,
Just tell me that you’re out there, and I’m not alone,
Or I’ll make the easy choice, and indulge in that jam scone.

All words Meadowhead Bard.