Back to ‘loads that are now shed’
I just simply went to bed;
Now that lights have come back on,
Back to blogging I have gone.
Seems quite crazy that time spent
On one’s blogging, with intent,
Must depend on current’s whim —
Oops, did I see lights going dim?
Interrupted in mid-post
Might as well give up the ghost;
Sent completely up the wall,
This is just no fun at all.
Adding to the worst of curse
(You tell me of any worse!)
Is the name of ESCOM, and
All their corrupt little band.
Maybe golf a better bet,
Light for that is not cut, yet;
And to ration which, it’s true,
They would find quite hard to do.
If someone could find a way to do it, I reckon some bludger would find a way to ‘monetise’ it.
What’s even worse than writing prose,
Is a half-baked caked; that’s a punch on the nose!
Especially when a client is on their way,
With no cell service to warn of delay.
So once arrived they are soon sent packing,
Thank goodness it isn’t our service that is lacking,
Then the air becomes blue and Eskom is mud,
And everyone is howling and baying for blood.
I feel for you!
How frustrating. Especially when you are inspired.
Love your poem.
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