Drug cuckoos fly from London,
Liverpool, due north, north east
With heroin, cocaine and cannabis
Seeking a nest to lay their poison in
Not in the richer parts of town
Well feathered, powerful
Not where neighbours watch
And know their rights
Poor people live like birds in the woods:
When trouble comes, each must take flight
Or fight. But where to fly?
And how to fight the parasitic cuckoo?
Jobless, friendless, living with a habit
The cuckoos' hostsits fearful in his nest
There is no knock on the door
Boots kick it open,
Crime lords do not need a calling card
They come, wielding machetes,
There is no sanctuary. It's a dead end.
Send for the undertaker.
Cuckoo's off Scot free.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
How true this is, politics and money behind closed doors makes it possible for the cuckoo to flourish