It
is the festive season
Peace
and quiet at last
Time
to think of reasons
For
casualties in the past
.
The
boxes it’s time to tick
Of
breakdown and mistake
The
casualties you called a prick
And
cried “for heavens sake”
.
Time
to write a letter
All
part of the work
Hoping
they are better
The
misguided senseless burk
.
Time
for all teams to wind down
So
few people facing harm
Hoping
no one else will drown
Just the
battery low alarm
.
With oven
full of roasting bird
Friends
and families near
Is that a
naughty little word
When the
pager you can hear
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