Peter Rose

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Do Not Expect Or A Letter To The Young

Do not expect
otherwise known as a letter to the young.

Do not expect people of my generation
to view life and death as you do
I was born at a time when
the best of men were all trained to fight and die
The very best were trained to fly and fight;
and expected to die within weeks.
From both sides in the divide,
from all nations and all religions;
the best were trained to fight and expected to die.
So do not expect my generation
to understand your complaints;
do not expect us to value your concerns.
Never think you know how we judge or what we value.
Your lives seem to us to be blessed with plenty
yet cursed by frustration
while ours was cursed by deprivation
yet blessed by living.

Part two of Do not expect
otherwise known as a letter to the young.
For Britain’s softened youth

We who were born of death laden times,
We who grew as wars expanded more than mines
global fear prevailed all over
When war was named as cold,
yet heated by nuclear blast
able to melt the earth itself
We who stood in the soaking rain,
Just happy it was not radio active
Those of us who recall living
in good homes
that had no bath
nor electricity
and still were homes worth having.
In times when travel meant a walk,
may be a steam train ride
For the privileged,
We all found joy in simple life.
The richest ones had scarce more
than the poorest in Britain now
Leisure was a half day
spent at church, expected to pray
comfort was being warm
on a winters day
When great sickness ravened all the people
young and old, rich and poor
Even the greatest in the land died so young



Knowledge was reading well
Debate was fierce but only words
We who remember mum and dad
Who had so little
yet showed us pride
We who were taught to learn
never suffer slavery at any cost
How can we understand,
those today who have so much
yet enslave themselves to
chemical addiction.
How can we understand
this slavery to expensive gadgets
How do you expect us to lament
your claim of deprivation,
with only one TV and a phone
when your time is spent on yourself
When you never strive just to live
your complaint is lack of gifts
You expect others to gift to you
the necessities of life
so you may indulge in idle pleasure
do not expect us to understand.
Complaints that you are not in fashion
to those who mended shoes
themselves or went wet footed
Is language of outer space.
when your complaint is
your lack of freedom
But not the freedom to think or write,
You have this in great abundance.
We all are free to live or die
We all are free to face our fears
we all have choices we can make
having made we accept
success and failure
both imposters vile
or so Kipling said
Grow up and make a life
strive to leave your deprivation
You are the same flesh and blood
as those who changed the world.
The gangs and drugs of limited estate
lock you in the sorry state
Learn to think and learn to write
learn to speak to fifth estate
Grow up not wild but free
watch nature, its not meek and mild
Balance is achieved
be brave.

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