Postscript: Since writing of this verse, I am pleased to say that Richmond Council has declined the planning application of a KFC in a busy high street that is already bursting with takeaway restaurants.
To Messrs: Mr. K, Mr. F & Mr. C.
I’m sorry to say (and I don’t mean to be rude),
But my neighbours and I aren’t big fans of your food,
We know our kids like it, that’s causing us stress, because they don’t care about the state of their health,
They don’t care about salt, they don’t care about fat,
And we know Mr. Kaysee, you’ve plenty of that,
Obesity, cancer, clothes that don’t fit?
Nah, they’re not worried, they don’t give a sh*t
But when they are older, with arteries furred,
Puffing on frames with words that sound slurred
Turning to us with eyes rheumy and grey:
“Why didn’t you tell them to stay well away?
Why didn’t you protest or use your voice?”
“We tried dear children, but there wasn’t a choice
Restaurants like that were on every street,
Where children of your age gathered to eat
Our society became about eating and buying
With little regard for the damage we were causing
I’m sorry dear children, we tried what we could,
But we’d already lost the battle for food.”
© Suzy Rigg
Post script: Since the writing of this verse, I am pleased to say that Richmond Council has declined the planning application of a KFC in a busy high street that is already bursting with takeaway restaurants.