you used to be my light.
I wear sunglasses now.

The news will say we're suffering from excess immigration
That a rampant hoard of foreigners has fallen on our nation
But truthfully, there hasn't been a native Briton here
Since people dressed in mammoth skin and hunted with a spear

Our language is a mixture of a dozen different tongues
We munch our way through poppadoms, fajitas and fu-yungs
When cheering at a football match, we're infamously vocal
Our teams may be the finest but the players won’t be local

Genetically, a Briton is a multi-cultured stew
With Romans, Saxons, Vikings and the Celts, to name a few
Our national drink is Indian, the Germans make our beer
The TV comes from China and the table from IKEA

Potatoes from America and onions grown in Spain
A multitude of British things arrive by boat and plane
The rain that falls upon our hills has blown from over seas
And with it come migrating birds to nest in British trees

The Royal Windsor family have Greek and German genes
So think about just what it is that being British means
We're stronger with our differences, the best of humankind
Our nation, not an island but a common state of mind

I dreamed a dream that could never be true
and yet I still stayed up waiting for you
though why my heart held on to you
is something I will never know.

and though my heart cries out for things
I know will never be,
I still dream a hopeless dream
of us, of you and me.

To all the ears listening in this ,
This is me screaming.
Though me head is not in the pillow,
Or my mouth yelling,
This is me screaming.

As pencils scream across pages,
And feelings scream through heads,
This is me screaming.

To all  those listening ears,
Though my words are silent,
And I make no noise,
This is me screaming.

This is me screaming creations
and manifestations of mind,
Screaming creations onto pages and
lines into songs.

This is me screaming, and though it is
silent,
I hope you hear every bit of it.

This is me screaming, begging the ideas to fall onto the page
and come out as they are meant to be.

This is me screaming at the top of
these silent lungs, and waiting for
You to hear.

This is me screaming.

From nine to half past eleven did
I view what life was before my, our,
no, my, wait what?

We kissed in that new couch,
when we hid it was amazing,
when we ran, we ran for love,
to love and to forgive, we ran.

I jumped and crossed a border,
screamed my way out of it in French
got sprayed on by ex-friends
and now I stand alone, in my bathroom,
someone told me you don't do sleepovers with boys.

Why would I consider it
When never were you true
I never should reload it
And relinquish it to you
For surely would you use it
And still would I show surprise
At the sight of bridled malice
In such grey and lifeless eyes

The tools you used against me
Left scars across my mind
The will you took away from me
I happily resigned
A blame it hovers over you
But doesn't match your dress
If more I pile onto you
It seems I carry less

You placed such trust about me
And it grew too hot to hold
I dropped the warmth in front of me
And cursed about the cold
A shiver ran about me
Like a spider on my skin
My vision faded eerily
The room began to spin

Insanity beheld me
In my broken tepid form
It wrapped its arms around me
So comforting and warm
And showed me secret windows
Which no living eye should bite
With a light of truth above its head
It charged into the night