Our England Gone Poem by George BernardBloodyShaw
Our England Gone
Our plight of life
Black or white
In what was my country,
A bounty,
Now with gun or knife.
The faces I see
Or faeces to be
Of black or white
To have a thought
Of what is right
How my England
Now is riot
'Tween the rot
'That' is to be
In what was
My country...
I have´nt lost my identity and neither have MY friends.We may be abroard but we can still have a life as Englishmen overseas. Sid.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/3/2024 4:29:04 AM # 1.0.0.1119
England is a ship without rudder. Directionless and cut adrift. How poetic. I jusy know it as Rip Off Britain. Steve