Progress
Empty churches, unheard preachers,
Fewer nurses, no more teachers.
Burgled house, then you're in lumber,
No police just some crime number.
Need a doctor for some ointment,
Make do with a phone appointment.
As for all the many food banks,
They've replaced the high street's closed banks.
Want a train, the station's closing,
Weeds upon the track reposing.
Feeling lazy, don't like walking,
Let your scooter do the talking.
Child's the brains of next door's pussy,
Universities' not fussy.
What d'you mean, it's all a mess,
This, my dear, is called progress.
Hobbo's Poems 
We think developers must be bonkers.
Truth is, they’re all backed by bankers.
Progress attracts the shonkiest ?ankers. 😉
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Shonky…great word! And, as a bonus, it rhymes with donkey. 🤣🤣
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Haha, I had an interesting conversation on this very subject last week!
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We do go backwards sometimes, don’t we.
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Apparently so!
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Excellent poem Hobbo, a lot of food for thought on the definition of “progress” in the modern world! 😁👍👏
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Thank you. I do feel we take large steps backwards sometimes.
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I’m inclined to agree with you on that summation Hobbo! 🤔👍The more “modern” we become, the more backwards we go.
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👍
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Amen. Nice line weeds on the track slumber. Well done, sir, well done.
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Thank you SP
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I don’t have a scooter 🛵
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It was a gentle dig at mobility scooters. Some people need them but others are just too darned lazy to walk!
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These are the saddest sort of truths. 😢
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Thanks. I think it was your poem about train tracks that kicked this one off! 👍
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Absolutely smack on Hobbo! If this is progress then God help us!
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If we keep progressing, we’ll be in the Stone Age soon!
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