Black And White

Hey everyone This is a poem on identity and specifically British identity. In it I highlight the dangers of it’s more extreme forms which lurk beneath the veneer of respectability. I’ve titled it Black And White I hope you enjoy the read.

Black And White

They march against anyone considered to be different
In their United Kingdom
all must be the same
It’s how the game is played
they pay only lip service to diversity
It is to be tolerated not celebrated
for what it can offer society
with stern faced sobriety
they claim everyone must fit in
a leader paints their portrait of Britain
this is a picture I don’t want to view
the colours are not fine
just a carefully chosen few
there are things which are hinted but cannot be spoken
in this country where tokenism rules
when it comes to making money at the expense of others
it is to be praised not mocked
the orator perpetuates the myth
of subsidised Jock
which he and his followers know to be untrue
they spread lies for the red white and blue
selectively tell half truths offering no explanations
behind their slogans and agendas
proclaiming British Jobs For British Workers
this is a land for strivers not shirkers
the British card is a knave with no honourable intentions
a blood stained badge of shame
they try to sugar coat the poison
giving others the blame
for naked opinions laid bare
the mask is slipping
the truth revealed
it is not a pretty sight
meanwhile in the world I know
bright yellow sunshine meets
the clear blue sky
and pink faces eat irn bru ice cream
I remember once hearing a statement on dreams
which said happiness is viewed
in vibrant colours
whilst nightmares are shown
in black and white

@ Gayle Smith 2015

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