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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Things Have Changed By Robert (Bob) Moore When I was young, the doctor, came around if I got sick gave me a pill, or needle, and that would do the trick but thing have changed, and now we ring, his receptionist who tells us, “you can come next week. I’ll put you on the list” So you go round, the next week, sit in a little room full of germs and sick folk, the air so full of gloom yes he says, you’ve had the flu, his hand upon my brow just stay home, don’t catch a chill, he says this to me now. And then there was the milkman, came round every day you can catch up next week missus, if you couldn’t pay leave money on the doorstep, the empty bottles too nobody would touch it, ‘cause everybody knew Everyone was battling, just to make ends meet nobody was richer, than the others in the street we’d try to help each other, in any way we could we may not have had very much, but life was pretty good The breadman was the next to go, now he delivered to the shops you had to go and buy your bread, with your bacon and your chops that’s if you could afford to, things were getting very dear you tried to keep your chin up, things could be better by next year Then there was the paperboy, on street corners he would stand yelling out the headlines, didn’t need no big brass band “GET YOUR PAPER HERE” he’d cry “WHATS HAPPENING TODAY” but I hardly even read the news, now he has gone away or the boy who had the barrow, on a Sunday he would go up and down the streets, and his whistle he would blow he knew you might still be in bed, but he would wait outside knowing as a regular, there’d be a bob or two on the side Then there was the mailman, he would whistle too, especially, if he had left, important mail for you the internet, and social media, have dealt him a deadly blow and that is why I’m pretty sure, he will be the next to go <><><><><><><><><><>
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