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mv-blakePoems
Fluttering weakly in the breeze Left in the wake of the train's passing, George's proud flag hung limp From the pole, Weathered and worn, Like a tired old soul. It's procurement no doubt, was a misplaced, ill-thought out statement of pride, A belligerent shout At the fresh-off-the-boat, Here for the so-called ride. The flag was once clear, But Britannia's grey skies had Poured down their drink, Washing the colours, Calming the passion, From red into pink. The train swept past, It's multicultural seats Brimming in rainbow hues, As the punters sped To the proud parade Of the minority few. They saluted the flag, Laughter from lipstick, Teasing it's impotence, As the hated flag Unexpectedly praised Their innocence. The train traveled on, Past gardens like embassy roofs, Displaying flags in retort; Their bright bold colours From every shore Joined in support. No tears for poor George, Confused in his ways, Run up a flagpole to fall and decay. So sad to see, thought Union Jack, As he flew with his friends And waved at the track.
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Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 9:11 PM UTC
Garden Parade
Fluttering weakly in the breeze Left in the wake of the train's passing, George's proud flag hung limp From the pole, Weathered and worn, Like a tired old soul. It's procurement no doubt, was a misplaced, ill-thought out statement of pride, A belligerent shout At the fresh-off-the-boat, Here for the so-called ride. The flag was once clear, But Britannia's grey skies had Poured down their drink, Washing the colours, Calming the passion, From red into pink. The train swept past, It's multicultural seats Brimming in rainbow hues, As the punters sped To the proud parade Of the minority few. They saluted the flag, Laughter from lipstick, Teasing it's impotence, As the hated flag Unexpectedly praised Their innocence. The train traveled on, Past gardens like embassy roofs, Displaying flags in retort; Their bright bold colours From every shore Joined in support. No tears for poor George, Confused in his ways, Run up a flagpole to fall and decay. So sad to see, thought Union Jack, As he flew with his friends And waved at the track.
#poem#poetry#pride#britain
mv-blake
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mv-blake
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 9:11 PM UTC
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