We are on our own now

by | Jun 16, 2008 | Poetry | 0 comments

We are on our own now…on our own and in despair…
For our political masters have shown they do not care.
We are blighted by the senselessness of those who make the rules…
The disaffected, mad disdain of disingenuous fools.

We are on our own now…dissected from the whole.
The lords of chaos torment us…but none are in control.
They dine in the halls of plenty, while we are on our knees.
They put all our hopes onto a plate…and ate them with some cheese.

We are on our own now…and feeling rather poor.
While we have much less to spend, the politicians…they have more.
With bloated bureaucratic greed…we have had enough
Of gluttons in the pig pen…with their noses in the trough.

We are on our own now…troubled by extreme
Political indifference, by an out-of-touch regime.
We are not allowed to have our say…we are not allowed to choose.
The cost of living is far too much…but there is not much left to lose.

We are on our own now…while our nation’s brave heart bleeds.
For they…who only fight with words and never fight with deeds…
Settle in their comfy chairs…how contemptuous they have grown.
They send our sons to fight their wars…but they never send their own.

We are on our own now…a poor divided nation.
Feral youths lack morality and a proper education.
Their prospects lie in indolence…and benefits reliance.
What virtue there is left in us…is in a dignified defiance.

We are on our own now…politicians deny the facts.
For delusion is the sanctuary of egomaniacs.
They sell us to the cheapest bidder…they betray our youth.
They are not to be inconvenienced by distortions to the truth.

We are on our own now…a displaced society.
We are as the roots and trunk; they the branches, of a tree.
But as the tree grows larger, so far distant are they now…
As distant as the furthest leaf…upon the longest bough.

We are on our own now…abandoned to our fate.
False promises are made with haste by opportunists of the state.
As one door is opened…another door then slams…
By scheming wolves who mock with scorn the bleating of the lambs.

We are on our own now…isolation overload.
Stuff all our passions in a bag…and take the nowhere road.
Too tired to stand up for ourselves…too restless down to lie.
Too afraid of living…but not afraid to die.

We are on our own now…though maybe not so…not quite.
For all of us who are on our own…together can unite
Against the polito-crazy…we could still strike a blow.
So if you want to add to this sorry rhyme…please then have a go.


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