POETRY

LET’S ROAR.

The problem’s too big
the perpetrators unknown
you can’t beat the system
all on your own.
So it’s easy to withdraw
find your own little cage
turn a blind eye to the suffering
stifle your rage,
but the greed goes on
the poverty’s still there,
you can’t just leave it
for your children to bear.
Others feel as you do
eager to put things right
but locked in isolation
it’s a hopeless fight,
so don’t sit in silence
behind a closed door,
your voice can help raise
a whisper to a roar.

PARTY POLITICS.

Ice cold political pasquinade,
nothing sacred, nothing sincere,
power the desired accolade;
justice lost, humanity forgotten,
a culture of greed
with a heart that’s rotten.

PATRIOTISM.

No, I shall not die for the fluttering flag,
if truth be known, ‘tis nothing but a multi-coloured rag
held aloft by some foolish hand
inciting worker and peasant to kill
on some green and wooded hill,
peasant and worker from some other land.
Nor shall I shed blood for the fluttering rag
that brings out fools to stand and brag
of brutal deeds painted grand,
deeds where rustic and craftsman lie so still
killed by my brothers' misguided hand.

No allegiance have I for the Nation
this man made autocratic creation
that divides my brothers in a world so small,
binds us to a country's cause, right or wrong,
bids us follow its drum, sing its song,
then sheds our blood in some border brawl.
No, I'll be no slave to flag or nation,
have no ear for power oration,
though its iron heel is on my breast,
my back feels its leather thong,
at patriotism's barracoon, I'll be no guest.