Sunday, 10 November 2013
UNTITLED POEM/SONG #?
Looking in the mirror craving attention,
another love child of a narcissist nation.
Look out of the window, cannot see anything
another blinded child who always wants something.
Celebrity kills, creating a death culture,
bones of the past picked at by capitalist vultures.
Bought and sold, the new and the old.
By all the taste makers trend setters, movers and shakers.
Down from the hills comes a thundering sound.
A thousand marching feet across the ground.
Tattered and torn flags, flapping in the field.
There will be no surrender because no one will yield.
The blood runs over England’s green and now unpleasant lands,
everyone fighting something they don't understand.
Two world wars and one world cup,
a dead empire, who gives a fuck?!
British soldiers give Nazi salutes.
Fingers on the triggers, there are Muslims to shoot.
A grey mist covers a land with no hope or glory,
history tells a different story.
A storm is coming, a real rain will fall
knocking all the Humpty Dumpty's from off the wall.