There's major activity outside the big house today
but when I got there all the Press Boys laughed
at my point and shoot and told me to be a good lad
and fetch the coffees and sarnies.
Said there'd be a couple of quid in it for me.
So I left them comparing lenses
and snuck up the track that leads to the back
of the grand abode
and, guess what, I spotted him
and got a blurry shot. But I'm not going to use it.
He's not looking his best. Not surprising,
considering what's happened -
but I don't want to add to his misery.
I'll leave that to them.
It's what they get paid for.