Yours Sincerely



Starting with the amusing:

1.  Yours Sincerely

I’ve kind of fibbed, I guess, having said, “Yours sincerely,” because it’s not quite true,
As I actually belong to my wife given that I once said, “I do!”
But “Yours sincerely” is common to us, we not meaning it quite so boldly,
And so, I hope that you'll forgive me, I hardly meaning, “Yours faithfully.”

Worrying over nothing, you think? Indulging in semantics, possibly?
Okay, I’ll take it on board having probably got too carried away, see.
But with political correctness on patrol, one is inclined to worry,
Though in this case, with you being so good about it, I’ll stick with, “Yours sincerely."

By Lance Landall

2.  Hi There

Nice to meet you — well, so to speak — given that I can’t see or hear you, sad to say,
But hey, you’re still there anyway, and that is what matters at the end of the day.
Yes, my name’s Lance, but I’m also known as “Him,” “He,” “I” and “Me,” and some might say, “You!”
But not that often, hopefully, though some say, “Mister,” or reply, “Mister who?”

I’m sorry I’ve made things a bit confusing, but all you need to say is, “Hi there,”
Not that I will hear you right now, but should you email me, or if we met to share.
Anyway, it’s usually I who says, “Me,” or me who says, “I," never, “You,”
Unless I’m referring to someone else, though to play it safe, I say, “Hi there,” too.

By Lance Landall

3.  Hello, World

Hello world, but to be quite frank, I really wanted to remain in bed,
’Cause I’m tired and still half a sleep, though I guess I’ll have to get up instead.
It seems you can’t do without me, and why I’m always on call, kind of thing,
But from this cosy and comfortable bed I’m really quite loathe to spring.

Say, can’t you find somebody else? I mean, does it really have to be me,
And given I did put in an appearance yesterday, obviously?
But oh no, you’re still on my case, and therefore, another day I’ll have to face,
Oh, if only I didn’t have to shave, brush my teeth and my shoes unlace.

By Lance Landall

4.  Where's Lance?

I wonder what this world would do if I expired? Grind to a halt, possibly?
Or would it simply continue on, whilst I beneath the surface, snoozed fitfully?
“Where’s Lance!?” everyone shouting, or would it be a few years before some caught on?
The world still spinning and buzzing with activity despite the fact I’d gone?

Oh, how terrible I would feel if my exit destroyed the world’s economy,
And Nature threw in the towel too, silently conveying, “The loss is too heavy.”
Oh, the guilt I’d feel, so sorry to be the cause of it all, but what can I do?
I know, I’ll update my last will and testament, and pass everything on to you.

By Lance Landall

5.  It's All So Very, Very Scary

This old world is full of baddies, there are meanies everywhere,
Big bullies who beat and bop you, who kick your shins and pull your hair.
It’s all so very, very scary, I just don’t know what to do,
So, will someone please cuddle me, and hug me tight? I don’t mind who.

There are so many scary sounds, and lots of rushing here and there,
People who angrily glare at you, or, who at you oddly stare.
It all makes me feel uneasy, even queasy, deep down inside,
So, will someone please cuddle me, until these fears inside subside?

Oh, there’s such a lot of shoving, and often you will hear a growl,
And many seem to be frowning, and there are some who even scowl.
Others get very irritated, even insults throw your way,
So, will someone please cuddle me, tell me everything’s okay?

There are so many arguments, and there are fights and scuffles too,
A lot of people throwing things, even shaking their fists at you.
There's heaps of yelling and screaming, and big children who cruelly tease,
Yes, it’s all so very, very scary. I WANT A CUDDLE! Pleeeeeeeeease.

By Lance Landall

6.  Why Aren't We Warned?

My parents never informed me what life would be like, but heartlessly went ahead and had me,
And hence why I’m feeling rather sore, for had I known, I would’ve protested very strongly.
And to add insult to injury, somebody smacked me on the bottom when I slid on out,
And even scissored my lifeline, and hence why, “What do you think you’re doing!” I wanted to shout.

But how could I shout such, given I didn’t even speak their language, not that I had been taught,
So I have no idea why they bothered to chat to me, not that I aren’t the friendly sort.
Therefore, all I could do was amuse them with smiles, though to be honest, most were the cause of wind,
But in response, all they did was pull more funny faces, thus it’s just as well that I’m thick-skinned.

And that wasn’t all that I had to endure, for they passed me around like a hot potato,
Visitors cooing and ahhing, saying I looked like him or her, not that I knew any though.
Well, how could I, given that I hadn’t been around for long, not that my vision was that great,
And half the time I couldn’t see them due to feed time, which my vocalizing would lubricate.

Yes, I wasn’t told a thing, and had to discover this all on my own, which took some working out,
And why I thought I would warn you, not that I’ve ever truly figured out what’s it’s all about.
But at least you'll have some idea, for one minute you’re cosy and warm, then, “What’s that blinding light!”
And that’s after they have yanked on your head, whereupon they proceed to scrub — not a pretty sight!

By Lance Landall

7.  I Wonder

I wonder why I am different, could it be because I’m me,
And could you be different too, given that you’re you and not me?
And now that I have thought of it, could others be different too,
Or is it only me that is me, and only you that is you?


Could all of us be different — I mean, each one of us unique,
Or do you think that in saying so, I have really got a cheek?
Though surely if I cannot be you, and if you cannot be me,
It must only stand to reason that no one else the same could be.

Hang on. Perhaps there are exceptions to what (here) appears to be.
Yes, maybe there is someone out there who’s the same as you and me.
Or maybe it is just you, or maybe I, who isn't unique.
Oh, I wonder what we'd find if you and I were to go and seek.

Now, if we found another me, or if we found another you,
Would I in fact still be me, and would you in fact still be you?
Because after all, if there was another one of you or me,
We could hardly be considered as being uniquely you or me.

No, I really don't like the thought of there being another me,
And as far as another you goes, is that what you'd want to see?
No, it's hard enough trying to figure one’s self out, quite frankly,
Without there being another you or me to figure out, dear me!

By Lance Landall

This poem was altered 13 October 2019.

8.  Who Would Really Be Who?

Tell me, how would it go if I was you, and how would it go if you were me,
Yes, you no longer you, and I know longer me, but now you, and you now me?
I surely no longer able to say, “me,” and you unable to say, “I,”
Or is it you who’d be unable to say, “me,” and me who couldn’t say, “I?

In fact, I’d be saying “Hello” to me, and you’d be saying “Hello” to you,
Rather than you saying “Hello” to me, and I thus saying “Hello” to you.
Oh dear me!
And all this being why I’m very glad that you are you, and that I'm still me,

Because if I were you and you were me, what a right old mix-up there would be.

By Lance Landall

9.  I'll Not Say Sorry

No, I’ll not say sorry for being myself,  ’cause it’s hardly my fault, okay,
I kind of suspecting my parents had something to do with it, by the way.
But whoever may’ve been responsible, there’s simply nothing I can do,
So please mind when you point the finger given that the blame is pointing at who?

Okay, so you think I’m being funny, and funny, I could be being too,
But at the end of the day — now, actually — I’m simply saying what’s true.
I’m not responsible for being myself, am simply a product of life,
Which, as I said, may will have had something to do with my father and his wife.

By Lance Landall

10.  Imagine Being Me

I’d like you to stop and consider how you would feel if you were me,
Especially given that who I am — myself — I can only be.
In other words, there’s nothing that can be done to change me into you,
And therefore, regarding me, please mind whatever you might say or do.

In fact, deep within my heart, I might even wish that I could be like you,
But just accepting who I am is something that I must learn to do.
And you’ll make it so much easier if you will just accept me too,
Thus allowing me to be myself, and I, the same allowing you.

Yes, I’m just simply who I am — ME — and while some changes could be made,
Any wrongful expectations here, will only see us both dismayed.
’Cause certain things that work for you, even certain things that you can do,
Mightn’t be the things that I can do, or things that’ll work for me too.

You’re so used to being you that you just can’t imagine being me,
But should you sincerely try, there may well be a possibility.
However, should you try, friend, and an understanding still allude you,
Remember it could be just as hard for me to understand you too.

By Lance Landall

This poem was upgraded on 9 January 2020.

11.  Squeeze Me

Could I have a squeeze, please? That’s right, a cuddle, hug,
One that’ll make me feel good, and at my fluttering heart tug,
A big squeeze, a loving squeeze, a really think you’re neat squeeze,
Yes, one that’ll have me beaming, one that’s tailor-made to please.

Oh, please can I have a squeeze? One that’ll have me gasp for air,
One that'll give me goose bumps, even electrify my hair,
An I won’t let you go hug, a hug that would please a bear,
A beaut hug, even cute hug, one that’ll say how much you care.

Please can I have a squeeze? One that’ll say, “No one else but you,”
One that will leave me glowing, and tingling all over too,
Yes, a squeeze I’ll remember, a hug that’ll remain,
One that’ll set off fireworks, ignite charges in my brain.

Pleeeeease. I only want one, at least for now. I’ll close my eyes!
Quickly, before I open them, or you’ll spoil that surprise.
I’m waiting...come on...please don’t be a big tease...JUST SQUEEZE ME!
Oops, now I’ve done it, and I was waiting so patiently.

By Lance Landall

12.  A Head Scratcher

“Hello, it’s Me here.”

“It can’t be, because I’m Me.”

“No, you’re You. It’s Me who’s Me.”

“No, no, no. How can I be You when I’m Me?”

“You’re not Me, You’re You!”

"Look, I’m hardly You, so therefore, I can only be Me.”

"Well, you’re certainly You to Me.”

“And you’re You to Me.”

“Okay, if all you’re going to do is argue, I'll hang up;
And another thing too: I’m also I.”

"No, I'm I."

"How can You possibly be when I'm I?"

"Oh no, there You go again,
"Men! And as I said before, I'm Me, not You,

"My, bye to you too."

By Lance Landall

This (kind of) poem was altered 13 October 2019.

13.  And I'm Thinking...

Yes, I’m thinking — well, there’s always something that I’m thinking. Haven’t you noticed that burning smell?
Seriously though, I can’t seem to put my brain to bed — yes, that old mental carousel.
And in case you’re thinking too, and thinking, “What a random poem,” I’m afraid I must agree,
So don’t go sharing it with anyone, because I’m thinking, “Who knows what they’ll think of me.”

Yes, it’s quite ridiculous, but that’s what can happen when you’re thinking, or is it thinking,
 ’Cause it could just be the mind doing its own thing, random like — no, I haven’t been drinking.
And I’m thinking, “Why does the old brain keep going when you want it to quit? Doesn’t it hear?”
And once again I’m thinking, and thinking, “Possibly not, or should one simply persevere?”

Well, such hasn’t got me far, ’cause it’s still just doing its own thing, has a mind of its own,
And now I’m thinking, “There’s a thought, a mind with a mind of its own. Am I really alone?
“Don’t be silly,” I hear you say, “You’re just thinking ridiculously,” but hey, is it me?
And I’m thinking, “Well, maybe not, or could it be that I’m simply exhausted mentally?”

Now, this might seem odd too, but I sometimes see pictures when my eyes are closed, and I’m thinking,
“There must be someone there, so why on Earth can’t they hear me?” Okay, I saw you all winking.
You can giggle all you like, but I might have the last laugh, ’cause don’t you sometimes see pictures too?
Now that’s got you thinking, which has also got me thinking, “Perhaps I’m just as strange as you.”

By Lance Landall

This poem was upgraded 20 January 2020.

Alternative poem.

14.  To All Who May Cross My Path

Quite clearly, a journey is a journey, mine having begun many years ago, or so, and much I’ve had to unlearn and relearn, which is often how it’s seen to go.
And sadly, as it often goes too, unfortunately, mistakes I have made, and wrong I have done, which has cost me quite a degree of sun, because regretful and sorrowful clouds have followed me (along with any necessary apology), but my attitudes and outlook so different now, and hence why to self I’m less inclined to bow.
However, my journey hasn’t ended yet, and hence why I’m still growing, don’t forget, and even erring too, though not so deliberately, mind you, but simply because perfection’s beyond me (and such having less to do with a lifetime and more to do with an eternity).
Therefore, you’ll need to bear with me, and certain things ignore, kindly, but don’t forget that how I once was may not be the same, I having changed somewhat (a lot, I hope), but still keeping my name, though not my looks, maybe, age no respecter of beauty, you see, not that I’m saying beauty visited me, though I don’t mind if you say it had, actually, and has sounding even better, but no, I think I’ve reason to pass on vanity.
Anyway, given all this, if you see me in the same way, or treat me in the same way, it could hinder and discourage me, and I’m not wanting to stall, slip or fall, nor return to that earlier me, and why on patience and understanding for me and others, I wish to call.

By Lance Landall

Okay, now the reflective:

15.  Of Me

Of me I tell and teach my children, "I’m just a man, not a god, nor a saint,
No better or greater than anyone else, and in some crisis may well faint.
And so, it folly to esteem me higher than one should, my flaws and faults clear,
And therefore, I only able to do my best, a crown hardly mine to wear.

So love me do, for all should be loved, but mind those expectations bound to fail,
’Cause fathers, and even husbands, belong to the real world, not some fairytale.
And though mistakes I regret, mistakes there will be, but love and care in my heart,
I knowing that it’s not about perfection, but all about that course we chart."

By Lance Landall

16.  My Jigsaw Puzzle

Welcome to my jigsaw puzzle — my life — where even I can’t put all the pieces together, though I’ve tried,
And then there’s that frustration, that inability to convey thoughts and feelings that I have deep inside.
I’m sure that I manage to convey a degree, though even then, perhaps not always that successfully,
But it’s only a portion of what’s within, and perhaps confusing, 'cause it’s not the whole picture of Me.

Yes, there’s so much I’d like to say — oh, if only I were an artist, 'cause a picture’s worth a thousand words,
But then, some artist I’d need to be, one who could paint that Me within, not just landscapes and the likes of birds.
I have turned to pen and paper, the standard form of expression outside of attempting such verbally,
But oh, how oft words fail to come, and when they do, they simply scratch the surface, and hardly speak masterly.

I've even wished I could project my inner self onto a screen, one where chapters of my life could be seen,
And thus I better understood, the agonies and desires within my heart and mind filling each scene.
And midst it all, the creativeness within me, those abilities not yet tapped, and talent not yet seen,
All crying out for release and fulfilment, I not wanting to lament what could’ve been, or should’ve been.

Sometimes I feel like a painting that someone’s lost interest in, the canvas cracked, peeling, the brushes dry,
Or perhaps a sketch that has been smudged, one where the likeness is amateurish, and there’s no rubber nearby,
And I deeply sigh, feel like I'm being passed by, when all I desire is to be valued, understood,
Thought of as much as anyone else, but in such low times, I thinking to myself, “What is the likelihood?”

Yes, welcome to my jigsaw puzzle, pieces scattered here and there, and some possibly never to be found,
My life a mixture of this and that, good and bad things, fair and unfair things, influences, genes and background.
I’ve no desire to harm, but rather to love and care, and be the best that I can, but oft I despair,
'Cause those thoughts and feelings within, and whatever else, need expressing, which I struggle to convey and share.

And there are things that I’ve done that I can’t understand, things I wouldn’t do now, not that I’m beyond mistakes,
'Cause though I’ve learnt and grown much, I’m still battling with things within, things that hamper, and more time is what such takes.
And thus I guess I’m an unfinished book, one too often judged by its cover, many not wanting to wait,
And other folk merely scanning the odd page, taking things out of context, or failing to rightly translate,

Or perhaps they've read a chapter (who knows which one); but that being the most time they were willing to allocate.

Oh yes, how I wish that I could convey more of what’s within me, and thereby, a truer picture of Me,
Not one that’s glossed over, but simply more accurate, one that would soon see others thinking differently —
Well, hopefully, that is — 'cause the more pieces that are found by both me and others, both in their lives and mine,
The much better things will be, 'cause those negative things that just work against rather than for, will decline.

By Lance Landall

This poem was upgraded 2 October 2019.

17.  That Easier I Might Rest

I try to avoid repeating any mistakes that I may’ve made yesterday,
But as is the way with so many of us, not always succeeding, sad to say.
Our yesterdays too oft marred, and with them, tomorrows too, regret coming with pain,
And thus our journey made all the harder — and on our calendar, another stain.

How I wish that my mistakes were few, how I wish I wasn’t so flawed, but you know,
The way’s beset with traps and stumbling blocks, and therefore, cracks in ones resolve soon show.
I saying or doing what I never wanted to, and hence those two sides of me,
The good and bad, the bright and sad, confusing pictures that hang in my gallery.

But press on one must, and with hopeful intent, seizing each day come rain or come shine,
And this being what I do, some days a straight path, and some days a tiring incline.
But I knowing that I did my best, and at the end of the day having confessed,
My errors admitted and apologies given, that easier I might rest.

By Lance Landall

18.  Let Me Be

All I want is to live a good life, and peaceably so, for I would never think to hurt another,
But rather, I desire what is best for all, and consider each one as being a sister and brother.
Thus, I have no agenda, no desire to break the law, no desire to harm, lie, deceive, cheat or steal,
But rather, where there’s sufferers and unfairness, I desire to protect, defend, help, support and heal.

Yes, all I want is to be left alone to enjoy my life, to pursue my own interests and dreams,
Thus free from any wrongful interference, and well away from any person who evilly schemes.
I’ve no malice in my heart, no desire to avenge, nor will I trample on others to get ahead,
Because I believe that one should just be very grateful if healthy, housed, clothed, helped, loved and well fed.

All I want too, is to be able to practice my faith, to express my views, written or verbally,
Protected by laws that strongly guard and enshrine freedom of speech, civil and religious liberty.
For without any of these, I could never fully be me, and therefore would hardly be left alone,
Which, at the end of the day, I must say, would effectively mean that my life wasn’t really my own.

And nor that of my spouse, family or friends, who I just want to be able to quietly enjoy,
That is, without some persecutor, plotter, tyrant, zealot or bigot stealing both theirs and my joy.
And they being, those not content to leave others alone, but who seek to harm, force, control or buttonhole,
Such being the way of the selfish, cold, callous, misguided, deluded, deceived, who're the bane of one's soul.

By Lance Landall

19.  Such I Had To Say

I don’t believe in breaking hearts, shattering dreams, nor in making promises I can’t deliver,
I don’t believe in treading all over folk, and rather than a taker, seek to be a giver.
I don’t believe in stealing, cheating or lying, nor in profiting from anyone’s misfortune,
Nor in making someone’s lot harder, ignoring their plight, withholding some sorely needed spoon.

And you know, I have a problem with 'huge cathedrals and poor parishioners,' those faith healers too,
For not only is the evidence of their healings scant and dubious, but they, oft well-to-do.
And I also have a problem with 'wealthy politicians and struggling citizens,' for somehow,
Something doesn’t gel, legislation oft draining leaner pockets, and the future sold for the now.

I don’t believe in class distinctions, snobbery or cliques, nor those jobs for the boys (cronyism),
And nor do I believe in some ecumenical power block, Church and State opportunism.
Yes, I don’t believe in anything that empowers an elite to lord it over the many,
Nor in anything that gives some pious majority a strong throat hold on the minority.

And you know, I have a problem with hospital waiting lists, that health care that so many can’t get,
And yet, look how much is spent on big shots, celebrations and the likes, never mind the country’s debt.
And hence why I have a problem with anybody who misuses their wealth most indulgently,
For so much suffering could be alleviated if the rich acted far more generously.

No, I don’t believe in wealth or power in the hands of a few, nor in those pedestals for some,
Nor in making all march to the beat of a universal tune, and some order then bound to come.
I don’t believe in shiny boulevards for some, and potholed ghetto streets for others (hence food banks),
Nor in the misuse of position or authority; that passing the buck further down the ranks.

Yes, I’ve a problem with phoneys, manipulators of the masses, those who mislead or use force,
They so often using some Trojan horse, saying one thing whilst plotting a very different course.
And be they Christians or atheists, they have one thing in common, they aren’t thinking of you and me,
But rather, themselves or their agenda, (though there are the deluded), but all causing injury.

No, I don’t believe in, but have a serious problem with, any act against humanity,
Anything and everything that somehow endangers human rights-cum-one’s freedom and liberty.
Yes, anything that interferes with justice, one’s conscience, one’s non-violent path, heart, mind and soul,
For when it comes to others — no one, absolutely no one — has the rights to such evil control.

By Lance Landall

20.  They're All The Same To Me

I don’t care whether someone’s rich or poor, black or white, a waiter or surgeon, a Muslim, Jew, atheist or Christian,
As they’re all the same to me — humanity — my brothers and sisters; and as far as my circle goes, not out but in,
For all have a place in this world, no one less worthy, no higher or lower, and I always there should they call on me,
Believing that that’s how things should be, just how I would like them to treat me, and given that we’re all one big family.

Therefore, I won't betray anyone, kick them when they're down, gossip behind their back, stab them in the back, or hold them back,
Nor will I lay a hand on them, fool them, rob them, mock, threaten or manipulate them, nor somehow get my own back,
For what would such say of me, and all it would do, is just drag me down to a level that would hardly benefit me,
A level I’ll not sink to, for it’s just a dead-end street, something that works against rather than for, injuriously.

No, I don’t care where they’re from, nor about their past, whether they’re short, tall, slim, fat, cross-eyed, missing limbs or ugly,
As they’re all the same to me — humanity — my brothers and sisters, worthy of time, effort, thought, love, care and mercy,
So on their behalf I'll speak or stand, hoping that they'd do the same for me; and if they didn’t, it still wouldn’t stop me,
I thus being true to myself, my conscience clear, my actions transparent, impartial, thereby acting honourably.

And I’ll decide for myself what someone’s like, not what I’m told, allowing them to defend them self, and overtime grow,
Bearing in mind that we all err, ebb and flow, deserve another chance; and that when it comes to others, what do we really know?
Hence why I won’t label or pigeonhole folk, misjudge them, cruelly joke, and why I don’t care if they’re three or ninety three,
And why on their behalf I will battle, for every human's deserving of the same freedom and liberty.

Yes, I don’t care whether someone's liberal or conservative, a meat-eater or vegan, a prostitute or a tramp,
As they’re all the same to me — humanity — my brothers and sisters, and whether they’re in this camp, that camp (or are camp),
For all are precious, and why the greater someone’s need, the greater my response, for the litmus test of our decency
Is how we treat those who’re different, the misunderstood, disadvantaged, vulnerable, suffering and minority.

By Lance Landall

The poem above isn't sanctioning this or that, but simply referring to that love that we should have for all,
and yet, fall so far short of — terrorism and heinousness aside.
This poem was upgraded 5 June 2017.

21.  A Work In Progress

I don’t believe in enemies, just others who’ve unfortunate issues too,
And I no holder of grudges, would rather reconcile, or move on, thank you.
Yes, I’m not into hitting back, or revenge, ’cause what goes around comes around,
Though how could I retain my dignity if relinquishing the higher ground.

And nor do I wish to indulge in character assassinations, ’cause they
Take people down rather than help them up, and who am I, such ill to relay?
A saint, I don’t think, having done my share, and of my own flaws, am well aware,
Humanity but a work in progress, and why I’m hoping you’ll meet me there.

By Lance Landall

22.  And Surely You Too

I’m all for a world where all are free, where folk go to this church or that church, or an atheist choose to be,
A world that’s free of prejudice and bigotry, and where another’s point of view we always try to see.
And where we fail to, that we accord them the same rights as us, thereby acting tolerantly,
Appreciating the uniqueness and individuality of each member of humanity.

I’m all for a world that’s full of love, where folk never resort to violence or war, nor settle some score,
But rather, forgive and forget, choosing to move on and upward, they never desiring to close the door.
A world where only what’s right is sought, our thoughts and actions noble, and we, always seeking what’s best to say,
Whether such be a word in due season that shows that we care, or something that cheers another on their way.

I’m all for a world where burdens are shared, and where charity’s the order of the day — and thus warm, each heart,
Every breast beating with tender regard for both creature and man, and our care for the Earth state-of-the-art.
A world where only selfless acts-cum-beneficial deeds and loving affection are employed, and much not seen,
We not seeking reward, recognition, or the limelight — our conscience, heart and mind active, lofty, clear and clean.

I’m all for a world where hate has been abandoned, and deceit, bias, oppression and persecution too,
A world where everyone’s input is valued, where no one’s thought of as lower or higher, nor help overdue.
Yes, a world where reconciliation is on everybody’s mind, a fair world, where all are seen as one,
And yet, are enjoyed for their difference — sense, peace and harmony having put an end to both sword and gun.

By Lance Landall

23.  I'm Angry Today

Yes, I’m angry today, ’cause so many poor souls are going without while others have far more than they need,
And many of the latter flaunting their wealth, callously indulging in extravagance while these others bleed.
It’s wrong! It’s cruel! Plain unfair! Hence why the world needs a shake up, or at least those who’re acting so dreadfully,
Gorging themselves materially while others starve, die, suffer through not having, or live in poverty.

What’s even worse, many who’ve enough are still seeking more, bemoaning the amount of tax that they pay,
When these others can’t afford to visit doctors, put heaters on, get things they need, day after stressful day.
And those who've enough or more, oft put the boot in, turning on the welfare system and those in need of such,
And at that money that’s sorely needed for the protection of the ill and vulnerable, cruelly clutch.

Yes, not content with their lovely home (or have they two?), their flash cars, yacht, shares in some company, and so on,
They complain about some poor wretch who’s supposedly draining their pocket (whilst they trip to Spain or Saigon).
And whilst even on the make (’cause those with wealth are often the biggest takers, drainers and wasters), cry “Foul!”
When it’s the unfortunates who haven’t got, and are going without, who have more right to holler and howl.

All why on their behalf I rage, ’cause many need health care they can’t afford, oft not through some fault of their own,
And some not owning a house, even car — and as far as trips go, you’ve got to be kidding; then there’s that zone,
Yes, that district that those who’ve more than enough won’t buy in (even though it’s okay), thanks to their snobbery,
Oft another word for those who’re well up the ladder, though not all such people act as pathetically.

Then there’s those family situations where some have and some don’t, and where those who don’t, struggle financially,
While their siblings manage fine, yet seldom help, if at all, too caught up in that same selfish mentality.
Some even thinking that they can’t when they can, though such might mean going without something in order to give,
And that something being something they don’t need, but no, which as far as I’m concerned, is a sad way to live.

While the poor suffer, many who’re wealthy (thanks to pure indulgence), drain resources, strip supplies, charge sky-high,
Are on appalling wages — CEOs — thus draining tax payer’s money, greedily scoffing at the pie.
Yet, how oft the finger’s pointed elsewhere, whilst money lines the pockets of an elite, even secret few,
Where the real power is, even hidden agenda that’s working to gain more control of things, and us too.

Yes, I’m angry today, ’cause it’s not right that others suffer or die while others waste what could relieve and save,
While others just party, live in despotic luxury, wade in self-importance, indifferently behave,
Thereby joining the ranks of the selfish, callous and thoughtless who’ve cursed this Earth throughout its sad history,
’Cause such have no heart or conscience, or not much of each, and are effectively foes of humanity.

By Lance Landall

This poem was upgraded 2 Febuary 2020.

24.  My Dear Friend

My dear friend, and because I truly love you so — in other words, truly care —
I’ll always tell you what you need to know, not just say what you might like to hear.
And therefore certain things may hurt, and this, no matter how carefully I tread,
As truth often reveals the unpleasant, those things that sometimes need to be said.

And that’s love, for love puts another’s best interests first, even withholds praise —
In other words, doesn’t say you’re good at something when you’re not, nor false hopes raise —
Otherwise, you might well make a fool of yourself, perhaps reaching for a mike,
And those in the audience laughing at your voice, wishing you’d be on your bike.

No, love has far more sense than that, for had I foolishly said that you sing well,
You’d be slow to trust my judgment again given how “Get off the stage!” can chill.
But enough about singing, for that’s just one example, and why truth’s best said,
And lest due to such folly you join the ranks of those who’ve nonsense in their head.

Yes, the world is full of inflated egos, balloons that are about to burst,
Folk who’ve been set up for a fall via misplaced warm fuzzies of which they’ve a thirst;
And why criticism’s hardly popular despite it oft being a good friend,
And the way of fools soon leading to their own or someone else’s sticky end.

And this, dear friend, why I’ll always be honest with you, share what it’s best you know,
And thus I at peace with myself, my conscience clear and my heart shouting, “Bravo!”
For stating the truth and calling things as they are is not just a caring act,
But a courageous one given how so many now prefer fantasy to fact.

By Lance Landall

Alternative poem.

25.  Now That I'm Older

Now that I’m older — and by that I mean, much older — and having learnt, seen and experienced much, there’s much that I feel I can share, and this with an occasional tear, but all in order to benefit others, particularly my younger sisters and brothers, for the years teach much that the days never know, and why all should mind any seeds that they sow.
So what are some things I could share? Well, life’s too short to waste on the petty, even the unfair; that good and bad is the lot of all; that it’s better to laugh than gripe or bawl, though there is a place for righteous anger and sympathetic tears, even healthy anxiety and prudent fears, for our sixth sense isn’t imaginary, and dangers and risks oft ensnare or snatch the unwary, those who’re either young, naive, uninformed or foolhardy.
Yes, I’ve learnt that one shouldn’t aid misfortune, nor compound mistakes, and that a little inattention or impatience is all that it takes, not to mention complacency or stupidity, for it’s true that we reap what we sow, and why it’s wise to listen to those who know, and worth bearing in mind that contentment and acceptance are our best friends, and oft how one mends, for there’re things we cannot change, nor exchange, but you know, trials are how we grow, even get there in the end, though life’s in the living and not the arriving, and why many just waste their life striving.
Oh yes, I’ve learnt that there’s no fool like an old fool; that fighting, annoying, destroying, graffiti and showing off aren’t cool, and that jealousy and revenge are a waste of time, and the latter, a sure to kick back at us crime, and why it’s best to make friends of our enemies, thus living in peace and without unease, we cleaning up Earth and planting more trees, giving and sharing, loving and caring, not just doing as we please.
And I’ve learnt that a marriage seldom fails where a selfless spirit prevails, where a woman’s treated well and where respect is seen to dwell; that children and creatures should never be harmed; that hugs and cuddles are how anxiety’s calmed; that love, order and discipline steer and protect one’s family; that we should never take for granted freedom and liberty; that crime never pays and that jail simply wastes precious days; that one shouldn’t foul their own nest; that the vulnerable, needy and afflicted are a test; that true heroes are more often a mum or dad; that those ahead of their time are oft thought of as mad; that many are right who others think wrong; that sorry’s a word more oft uttered by the strong; that there’s certainly a time and place, more need of forgiveness and grace; and lastly, that bridges weren't meant for burning; that one never stops learning; and that life's a gift that's oft squandered so easily, treated too casually.
No, I can’t deny what I’ve learnt, for apart from reality’s lessons, one can also get burnt, and why I’ve learnt that what I’ve learnt is better not re-learnt if what's been learnt has come from being burnt, and which re-learnt, just sees one twice burnt.

By Lance Landall

I Don't Have A Problem With:

Rich folk if they’re generous and unassuming;
Celebrities if they’re humble and approachable;
Protesters if they’re law abiding and thoughtful;
Soldiers if they’re humane and peaceable;
Magistrates if they’re impartial and merciful;
Policemen if they’re above reproach and friendly;
Politicians if they’re honest and transparent;
Teachers if they’re patient and helpful;
Parents if they’re loving and honourable;
Students if they’re respectful and teachable;
Doctors if they’re thorough and kindly;
Nurses if they’re tender and compassionate;
Dentists if they’re charitable and gentle;
Tradesmen if they’re qualified and sound;
Journalists if they’re unbiased and accurate;
Counsellors if they’re understanding and trustworthy;
Debaters if they’re open and fair;
Poets if they’re into rhythm and rhyme;
Artists if they’re into beauty and order;
Writers if they’re into truth and wisdom;
Composers if they’re into melody and harmony;
Musicians if they’re skilled and restrained;
Singers if they’re unaffected and talented.
Ministers if they’re Christ-like and faithful;
Prophets if they’re genuine and heavenly;

Are You With Me?

as a citizen of the world,
who wishes to live in peace and harmony,
who believes in freedom of expression and civil-religious liberty,
who champions human rights and respects the right of all to chose their own path according to their conscience,
who lauds, supports and encourages all that’s good, worthy, noble, prudent, harmonious, right, decent, beneficial, restorative, holistic, kind, considerate, fair, uplifting and inspiring,
hereby condemn and disown crimes against humanity,
and call on all to renounce the likes of:
violence in general,
human trafficking,
the degrading of women,
the belittling of men,
the abusing of children,
the mistreatment of the elderly,
the harming of our planet,
cruelty to, and exploitation of, animals,
and therefore call on all to improve and ease the lot of others,
foster greater understanding and communication,
be instrumental in effecting reconciliation,
teach, preach and practice, love, truth and virtue,
be more open-minded, tolerant and flexible,
demand accountability, transparency and equality,
protect the vulnerable, show fairness to minorities,
oppose what’s wrong and defend what’s right,
act lawfully, peacefully, compassionately and thoughtfully,
be positive, reliable and upstanding role models,
be productive, charitable, impartial and humble,
be kind to strangers and beggars,
treat all life as precious and sacrosanct,
respect the rights of others,
act responsibly as caretakers of Earth,
and show foresight.

Lance Landall