The Broken Promise Poem by Peter J White

Sharing ‘It’s that Man Again! ’ way back in ‘41, my Mum
Exclaimed, “Aha! ” and “Well I’m blessed. This sounds like fun.
The paper claims the day’s not far when everyone'll see pictures
On the radio” “How so? ” says I, unwilling to admit it was clear as bricks
And seemed to me uncommon daft, “Not just a chocolate box, more like the flicks,
They‘ll move”, she laughed. “You’ll get to see the King on Christmas Day,
Vera Lynn’s ‘White Clffs of Dover’; and Tommy Handley, by the way, doing
His thing.” I’m glad to say, while she’s been gone these twenty years,
TV brought us all a smile, but TV ads, do you agree? Have brought us close to tears.

Ah! don’t tell me ‘No’, I’ve watched too long, too many times
Courageous hero dodging bullets, wounded buddy in his arms,
But just as I’m about to yell, “Look out behind! ” It’s all too true,
We’re staring down some wretched loo; and while a bottle of
Expensive stuff’s poured in, the ‘expert’ says in measured tone
As if he‘d kissed the blarney stone, “You cannot risk your family”
Or some such twaddle. Does this intimidation really work?
It does? Good grief! There’s more, but I’ll be brief. “This is the latest model
Car! Just count the dinosaurs you see; then SMS (ten times the usual fee) ,

And you could score! ” Though every moron knows there’s four!
Or, conning us with some new gadget. ”Your neighbour has it, why not you? ”
I change channels with a groan. TV should be for us, not rag-and-bone men
Flogging us their lucky charms and spray for smelly underarms.
We need the inspiration to repair our lives; to lift us out of our despair
When trouble comes, as come it will; to reach remotely, far
Into the human soul for our own shining star. If you agree kindly blow
Your hooter passing by, so that I know by your likemindedness,
I’ve been a lone voice crying far too long in TV’s wilderness.