Growing Things Poem by Mary Champion

Black holes grow fatter
on a diet of debris
and neighbouring stars.



Pour grease down the sink
and your drains will soon get blocked
by swelling fatbergs.



Hot air will inflate
balloons and reputations.
But most of them burst.



Lies make noses grow
if you are Pinnocchio.
For Boris - not so!



Stuck on the M1
In a twenty mile tailback
frustration will grow.



Fertilized by fear,
conspiracy theories
flourish on Facebook



Assets of the rich
expand exponentially -
as does the wealth gap.