The future

by Stuart McFarlane / April 19th, 2026

So this is what the future looks like.
Not quite what I had in mind.
I seem to recall a time
when promises rang true.
About having more leisure time,
more time for your grandchildren.
But we never had any children;
and I no longer have my wife.
Yet, still, the promises keep coming.
A brave, new, digital wonderworld.
Sunlit uplands; and jam tomorrow.
Meanwhile there’s austerity, food banks,
fuel bill hikes; and then there’s Brexit.
We are a nation of fools
who voted to make ourselves poorer.
Rejoice! Rejoice!
And the longer it all goes on
the more, it seems, is taken away.
They say that I’m old now.
And maybe I am.
I know I look back more than I should.
I don’t go out much these days.
I really can’t get down the stairs.
And getting up is worse.
So it’s deliveries to the door.
There’s my room and there’s me;
and my Widescreen TV.
I only go out on the balcony
if I need a smoke.
But I don’t smoke anymore.
I once used to get visitors.
But not now.
My fault? Maybe so.
But, in truth, I think they only came
to see if I was still alive.
They don’t need to visit anymore.
Now they know I’m not.

Stuart McFarlane has spent many years, both abroad and in the UK, teaching English. In the UK this mainly involved teaching Esol to refugees and asylum seekers. He is now semi-retired and so can devote more time to writing poetry. He has had poems published in local magazines and online publications such as 'Borderless Journal', based in Malaysia and 'Culture Matters' and 'The Recusant', based in the UK. Read other articles by Stuart.

This article was posted on Sunday, April 19th, 2026 at 8:00am and is filed under Poetry.