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The Bug

There's a tiny dark corner, it's safe and it's warm.

There's a tiny dark corner, it's safe and it's warm

Nestled deep in the heart of my soul,

And to there I go when horror and harm

Threaten, mock and cajole.


There's a tired old lady in a dark lonely room

In the poorer part of the town,

By a tiny bright candle and milk opal moon

She darns her old white wedding gown.


In the pub in the Square there's a sad little man

His hands tremble, his red eyes are raw.

But he raises his pint the best way he can,

Turns to leave - walks into the door.


There's a beautiful child crying into the night

With nothing to mop up her tears.

Fragile, alone, too broken to fight,

She wonders how nobody hears.


December thirty-first, nineteen ninety-nine,

Eleven fifty-nine and counting,

Better start filling that kindness cup right to the line

Douse the evil and hurt which is mounting.


There's famine and warfare, who cares in the least?

There's a governing gaggle in charge!

Unsafe with the nanny, afraid of the priest,

Welcome to civilisation at large!


But in a tiny dark corner, a niche cosy and small

A million miles from the twisted and sad,

The crying child giggles, the drunkard stands tall,

And love and hope smother the bad.


There's a tiny dark corner, I go there a lot

It's tucked far, far away from the pain,

And in it I ponder a world we've forgot,

And dream of it being again.


The inspiration for this poem came from my favourite short story, "The Happy Prince" by Oscar Wilde. (Go and read it, it's very humbling). Originally composed during October 1999 when people were speculating as to whether the so-called "Millenium Bug" would end civilisation as we know it! Updated here, from memory.

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The Bug
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