'' They're Rich, While We're In Arrears '' Poem by Bri Mar

Meghan and Harry,
What a weight they carry,
This life to them, it just isn't fair?
While their fillet they carve,
We the plebs starve,
Woe is me, cries the poor millionaire.

We want to be royal,
But not to be loyal,
To that lot we call, ‘' THE FIRM ''
While in their pay,
We did not have a say,
Their ignorance, made us both, squirm.

Their attitude to race,
Is a total disgrace,
One was filled with suicidal thoughts,
What they couldn't see,
Is our need to be free,
Their arrogance tied us in knots.

They're saying, I'm a bully,
I was totally unruly,
They're trying to say we're uncouth,
This decision they'll rue,
For them I'll outdo,
Those bastards are afraid of the truth.

Though the concept we hate,
Being royal is great,
We insisted on keeping our titles,
Hypocrisy, no,
That's bloody low,
You've hit us both, in the vitals.

This dysfunctional mess,
Won't cause any stress,
The royals just live to cause strife,
I'd hang the lot,
Then let them all rot,
The privileged, know nothing about life.

When all's said and done,
While they're having fun,
We're struggling just to survive,
Their persona is fake,
It's from us they take,
We struggle, while that lot thrive.

This is truth not a lie,
Even when they die,
British rules are clear and concise,
On that last breath,
When they meet up with death,
For their funeral, we pay the price.

Royalty are scum,
Who believe we're all dumb,
They've plundered us for thousands of years,
It's time to awaken,
They should be forsaken,

‘' They're Rich, While We're, In Arrears ‘'