Not one naturally dark haired inhabitant sits at the cafe I find myself in. I’m the youngest by far, but this old cap it fits so I’ll take the abuse on the chin.
They walk in from the cold like the wandering dead as the north wind nips right at their heels. But some hardy old buggers sit outside instead and they casually order their meals.
It’s a bright springtime day at a beach in the north but the flags tell the truth off the wall. It’s a day like no other, I know what thats worth just a pity it can’t touch us all.
As our world cries in pain and the skies fill with bombs we take granted the safety we’ve got, in this small British isle with our privileged lives how can anyone tell wars to stop?
Post a flag post a meme post a hashtag that says, ‘we stand by you so hold your heads high’ That’s no comfort to those who have lost everything. Hold their heads up? They’ll get shot and die.
A virtuous platitude spread on the net does as little as nothing at all. Wringing hands for the victims is all that they’ll get whilst you hide behind your firewall.