Deleting happiness

Like a switch unintentionally flicked,
the clock of confusion quickly kicked in.
The blank screen of death widened worldwide,
the locking of log-ins and passwords denied.

Bars were closed leaving revellers trapped,
tourists halted by unmapped directions.
Every sporting event was called off.
Mirrors had enough, they cracked our reflections.

No rainbows allowed as all colours faded,
The sea was swallowed by thick smog and rust.
With nature endangered machines were upgraded,
removing our reason, destroying our trust.

Education was axed after teachers escaped
from their classrooms with whiteboards wiped out.
Questions unanswered as barrels were scraped
by stranded scientists; their research in doubt.

Birthdays were banned by a calendar killer,
which burned every date in the calendar year.
Buildings collapsed, no room for their pillar,
triggering potholes with road signs unclear.

Sunset was pale as darkness prevailed,
the only hope now is the cycle takes stock.
The reboot of daytime may reset the clock
and assure everyone the deletion had failed.

Talking head

If you are a talking head on a music show,
do it in a northern accent.
It sounds more authentic that way.

The doom, the bleakness of youth,
the gloom, the weakness, facing the truth.
£1 a year to spend on a record,
the joy and pain of Transmission
by Joy Division, striking a chord.

In the dusty collection some 70s funk,
punk, post-punk, Daft Punk.
On vinyl the final album by Pulp.

If you are a talking head on a transport show,
do it in a Cockney accent.
It sounds egocentric that way.

The moans, the state of each station,
the groans, the wait for compensation.
Everyone's barging, the scowls, the glare,
look over there, it's a cheeky hoodie
up to no good; he dodged the fare.

Tickets from last year in a bogus city,
tourists took pity and unwittingly sealed
a fraudulent deal, both cunning and shitty.

If you are a talking head on a football show,
do it in a monotone accent.
It sounds suitably thick that way.

I just hit it, you know, and it's gone in.
Last minute, I know, cos we went for the win.
The fans gave me stick and the lads did too.
There was banter, you know, from my old team.
I'm top of the world, it's a dream come true.

That performance out there was top-drawer,
We gave 110 per cent, you know.
At the end of the day, it was three points today,
and it's all about the final score.

If you are a talking head on your own show,
do it in a mongrel accent.
It sounds enigmatic that way.

Confusion all round, is he or isn't he?
A fusion of sound, a voice filled with mystery.
Posh, dosh, oh my gosh, where was he born?
The freak, the mystique, who is he meant to be?
No clues, no news, no lines have been drawn.

People over here may think that you're queer
but the Hugh Grant persona won't leave you a loner.
The overseasers love crowd pleasers; you'll see.
I should know, I had a go. It worked well enough for me.