You might think it silly
you might think it strange
you might think I'm crazy
or even deranged.
You can call me a hippy
a snowflake or worse
for putting my feelings
into rhyming verse.

My poems release me
from a world filled with hate
where everything's wrong
if its not white or "straight".
Where we persecute immigrants,
and  breastfeeding mothers,
the helpless, the homeless
and millions of others.

I yearn for a world
where we all live in peace
arm in arm with our brothers,
would we then find relief?
Or would hatred still flourish
in the smallest of minds,
passed down through generations
'cross the passage of time.

So, call me a Marxist, a snowflake, a hippie
call me a communist, bleeding heart leftie.
While you rail at the world with your ignorant view,
fearing all others who don't look like you.
I'll still be here like a thorn in your side
filled with love for my brother, with arms open wide.
Your hatred will fester, an insidious cancer
as you hoist up your flag and attempt  "Rule Brittania"