I hate to be fatalistic
but it’s a bit Stalinistic.
Not only do I feel like Trotsky
being airbrushed out of history
but I’m just waiting for the ice pick
in the head.
I can live with the fact that
what we had is dead
but find it difficult to deal with
the fact that facts are changed
according to a whim
or how you want to remember them.
It’s a bit Orwellian!
Ah well, it’s 1984
& I live on ANIMAL FARM
& Big Sister
is writing...re-writing the History Book.
I guess, when you’re f***ed
...you’re f**ked.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem