Oh, this green and pleasant land,
Its clear blue seas and golden sands.
Its rolling hills and wooded vales,
Its constant rain and howling gales.
Its cottages with picket fence,
Two Dobermans as self defense.
Ivy growing round the door,
With signs to keep away the poor.
The inner cities with their malls,
Tower blocks with grimy halls.
Lifts where addicts urinate,
Graffiti'd walls that spell out hate.
Railway arches dark and damp,
Is where the disenfranchised camp.
The 'working-girls' patrol their patch,
In hopes of drunken 'johns' to catch.
But in the suburbs, quiet rules,
The middle classes are not fools,
They leave the rich and poor to fight,
And draw their curtains for the night.
Oh, this green and pleasant land..........
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Green and pleasant trumps grimy and disenfranchised every time! ! Great writing indeed!
The stark truth bites, all of life is accounted for in this wonderful poem with great rhythm and flow! Inspired write!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
this is getting boring another cracking poem love it
You are very kind. Thankyou.