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I’m sitting on the
fence
In first gear
stuck in neutral,
The atmosphere is
tense
My feelings are
not mutual-
It’s hard to make
pretence.
There are two
points of view,
As silently they
leer.
It’s all a bit
confused
In the middle of a
sphere
Lost in wire
spikes and glue.
I wish I were
oblivious
As white lies
multiply,
I’m open; I know
it’s obvious
As my body
language lies.
The feeling now is
ominous.
Six of one half a
dozen of the other
I don’t want to
act a role.
From each it’s
under cover;
I’m made to feel a
mole
Futile looks from
one another.
In a tunnel on the
central line,
I want to join the
jubilee.
An approach is
further into decline
And stopping now
would be too risky,
By now I’ve seen
the signs.
An atom bomb
explodes,
The fall-out now
will linger;
Their computers’
on re-load,
The faces point a
finger,
They’ve changed to
different modes.
In a corner now
I’m sat
Open and exposed
Like a field mouse
to a rat,
There is so much I
know.
Now I’m flat on my
back.
My fence is now
barbed wire,
It feels like
prison camp
I’M innocent – no
liar!
(It’s my fault for
being quiet)
I’m waiting to be
fired.
Linda Lawrence
30th
June 1994
(With thoughts of
employment at M.P.&S)