When We Ourselves Were Young Poem by C Richard Miles

When we ourselves were young, we scrambled and we fell
We climbed the rocky waterfalls and crumbling cliff
We swam in crystal pools in shaded, hidden dell
And nobody would ever raise the question, if
We should be led secured by parent’s guiding hand
Lest danger’s threat should dare to raise its snarling head
But now we see in England’s mean, unpleasant land
A sense of safety for each weakling child, instead
For in our culture, cottonwooled and pandered to,
Our infants may not be exposed to any harm
Since litigation looms and since someone may sue
We must be ultra-safe for fear of all alarm
And so the young these days miss out on all the fun
That we enjoyed those golden days now sadly gone.