To-Day.

To-day is a burden thrown upon us

By the gods of contemplation

Let us wade our way through it

In the least painful of manners.

While everybody else is studing nature

They came and took our views away.

They took our character and our soil

So we are now left with these desolate

And gloomy alleyways through which

We move like ants.

They do not know how depressing they are

And the damage they inflicted

Because they have the blood of slaves

And the blindfold of the multitudes.

This is the loom on which we weave our lives

It does not matter which stage we reach

Or which bracket of the narrative

We find ourselves in

So long as we can still float

On the surface.

Alfred Grech.

29/05/2020.