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It’s Friday 13th


It’s Friday but not as we know it

They say Black Friday is a day to fear

So lock your doors and windows

And lock in your luck

And watch out for Black cats

Black cats will hiss as they walk past

Is It a day of fear for you my dear

A ladder appears do I walk under Or do I past?

It’s Friday will I get bad luck or will my luck last?

Thank god It’s Saturday

I don’t know how but my good luck did last

But is it running out fast?

Thomas Sims

Living in the fast lane

Life’s so quick; life’s so fast,at this rate will I last?How on earth will I stay sane?

Living in the fast lane.

Peace of mind I have no more,

simple life has gone for sure.

Always wanted in constant demand,

mobile in car, mobile in hand.

No time to talk to an old friend,

new friend computer, says ‘press and send’.

Half hour lunch, if you are lucky!

Eat whilst running, your fast food ‘Kentucky’.

Send a letter. ‘It takes too long,’

fax and email are the new song.

Internet instant message has just beckoned,

chat to global village in a second.

How long can I keep up this pace?

Will I ever finish the New World race?

My life is spinning out of control.

A high price to pay, for selling my soul.

Simon Icke
FootNote: I wrote this poem a few years ago before some of the very latest; go faster, easier life, busy people gadgets were on the market. However, I believe the message in the poem is still strong. Ever since I published this poem a few years ago, it has been one of the most liked and requested poems; from those that I have written. My apologies, if you already have a copy pinned to your notice board to remind you to slow down a little in your busy life. Please feel free to forward it to a ‘busy, busy friend’ or family member. Why not copy this poem out and post it somewhere to remind you not to live your life in the fast lane and take time each day to stand and stare occasionally, smell the autumn air, or the freshness of the morning dew, listen to the birds singing their chorus or just enjoy the beauty of nature and God’s creation all around you, perhaps make time to speak to a lost friend or a forgotten family member. You have my permission to publish the poem if you like its message on your web page, newsletter or in your newspaper or magazine. All I ask is you that acknowledge me as the author: Simon Icke, Aston Clinton, Buckinghamshire. UK.
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