Support Group (Poetry)

The leaflet, printed colourful and cheery
its invitation plain to ‘come along’
the meeting would be free for ‘first attenders’
to join their ‘friendly coffee morning’ throng.

He got there on the dot. The room was dingy
and half a dozen people sat around
everybody stared the while their leader
fussed about ’til a spare chair was found.

He listened to their chat and sipped his latté
refused the offer of a custard cream
each tale of woe exactly like the other
and nothing much by comment inbetween.

It seemed no one expected a solution —
sheer apathy had softened every mind
as for ‘support’ — some forward drive he’d hoped for
the group appeared all pretty much resigned...

No voice broke through, pro-active and determined
to unify, petition, call to fight
for better things — improvements in the system
no will to make demands for what is right.

An hour crawled. His coffee tasted bitter.
He left, remarking how the time had flown
thanked them all for sharing private problems
then, more depressed, went home to face his own.