Dear Mister Prime Minister, Was it worth it? Was it worth cutting off Our country’s trade benefits, our commodity trade, Like the testicles of a prizewinning bull?
Was it worth it? Was it worth tightening our borders, Like a wafer-thin corset, And muddying our country’s worldwide relationships?
Was it worth it? Was it worth denying millions of Britons Visas, healthcare and education Across the globe? Are you worried That Britain’s not British enough?
The glory days are over, Mr. Prime Minister. The isolated Rising Sun was outdated When faced with the advanced Western armadas. Just like your ideals. We must change.
And no matter how much you try to dumb us down, Force us to take pride in our own culture, While ignoring others, You can’t stop the wave of the now. You can’t pull The crusty, old mouldy wool Over our eyes forever
My muse is like an excitable dog. It catches sight of totally random things and starts yapping and running around and wagging its tail and WILL NOT STOP until I write a poem about it.My poetry is sometimes based on personal experience and sometimes on other things. Aside from that, I enjoy video games (My favourite game series is Mass Effect) and the popular television show My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.
It rained heavily last night, And the pillow got wet, A sleepless night, a painful night. Don’t you see! Her scars and her swollen eyes, Happiness turned into remorse, And the stream of enthusiasm changed its course. Just one moment,