Hate

The younger generation's gone to pot:
we're breeding scruffs, degenerates and yobs.
The taxman gobbles everything we've got
and foreigners are filling all our jobs.
The legal system's run by bleeding hearts.
The social workers haven't got a clue.
There's subsidised subversion in the arts
that rots our moral fibre through and through.

No wonder England's going down the drain
now money's poured away on foreign aid
and prison's fun and scroungers sip champagne
and no one dares to call a spade a spade.
Scores will be settled and the interest paid
when decent people crack the whip again.

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© Brian Fewster,
Published in Envoi 119, 1998 Return to main poetry index
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