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Northern Poet Mar 2019
That pound means more to her
Than it does to me
She's got to feed her family
A family of three

****** by the government
And ******* by society
This is what it's like
To live in Blighty

They've come here for a better life
A second chance
And a chance to survive
No they're out
On their own
Just like a dog
Without its bone

****** by the government
And ******* by society
This is what it's like
To live in Blighty

It's **** or be killed
The rich feed the rich
While the poor scape and beg
All alone
On a cardboard bed
No change for you
No not today
I need my money
Sorry love
Not unless you accept contactless
Or Apple Pay

****** by the government
And ******* by society
This is what it's like
To live in Blighty
RH 78 Jan 2019
Consumerism
                              Capitalism
                                                       Tabloidism
Buy
                              Grow
                                                        Shock
Work
                              Thrive
                                                        Scare

Debt
                              Certainty
                                                        Theatre
Is this really human progress? Are we a truly happy society when we’re constantly burdened with the pressure to build grow and develop our world in this manner.? I fear for those who cannot keep up. Third world countries left behind whilst global super powers monopolise this planet. What’s next for us all?. Divisions, greed Can’t be the way.. our problems are not the problems of our neighbours who may need more help than us.
Paul Butters Jan 2019
Oh Brexit!
Where is the Exit?
You can’t make your money
You Tory Grandees,
Nor can you
Remainer MPs.

We’re running right into a very hard cliff;
Before we get out we’ll all be so stiff.
There’s no majority for any option
And Theresa May’s deal is but a concoction.

Vote after vote and endless debate.
March twenty ninth is the Closing Date.
Can we escape?
I really don’t know.
The media are loving this pantomime show.

This sorry charade is filling the news,
We’re all sick of hearing everyone’s views.
Please get me out of here
I hear you say
Surely, surely there must be some way!

So come on politicians
Get your fingers out
And show these Europeans
We still have some clout.

If we can’t do that then just pack it in
And throw the whole thing right into the bin.
Whatever we do I’m just past caring
But I hope you’ll tell me thanks for sharing.

Get on with it!
That’s the yell.
For until we resolve this
We are in Hell.

Paul Butters

© 30\1\2019 (Written in the early hours!).
Brexit, Brexit, Brexit.......
Louisa Coller Jan 2019
Your structure was tall like a tree in the night,
yet they shot you down faster than lightning.
I felt myself falling in this deep endless abyss,
while they stand tall above us in this empty place.
Nothing is clear to us.

One by one each payment is erased,
one by one each month is replaced.
the more we look, the more it hurts us,
as we sit here in a confused daydream.

Vulnerable people grasping onto what they can,
it sounds dramatic only when you feel safe.
They say their words represent our feelings,
yet every person I know never felt the same.
I never knew how to feel like them.

One by one each payment is erased,
one by one each month is replaced.
the more we look, the more it hurts us,
as we sit here in a confused daydream.

For you grew in a shell of a place,
I never knew from my experiences.
But, for the place I did know for years,
I feel the colours fade away.
Every hue, every shade.

One by one, each person begins to walk away,
one by one, they make out it’s our fault again.
Yet, instead of fixing what is broken in masses,
we find new ways to paint over it again and again.

For I wonder what becomes of us?
If I’m not enough, will we be enough?
Even then, will they come knocking,
for us to pay their debts?
My pockets are empty.
This poem was written to be sent to Hungry Hill Writing for their 'Poets meet Politics' competition; I have wrote three poems for this competition; The first poem I entered, this is to highlight that it isn't just the United Kingdom being in a Political disaster... America, or the USA, itself, isn't doing much better. Government Shutdown, the workers not getting their pay. It's just a disaster everywhere isn't it?

This is meant to be the worries conveyed from an American and English person in love.
Louisa Coller Jan 2019
The time on the clock ticks fast,
you hear them shattering glass.
Explosive sounds in night,
Small hands hold on you tight.
"Don't forget us when it's passed”.
This poem was written to be sent to Hungry Hill Writing for their 'Poets meet Politics' competition; I have wrote three poems for this competition; This is the second entered; The title is quite self-explanatory, this is about the border of Ireland.
Francie Lynch Jan 2019
Fewer adults are laughing,
It's not funny any more;
We leaned on poles to direct our titter,
Quite harmless in its day.
And Engine 9's been derailed,
We're catching tigers,
But It's still okay.

We rolled our eyes at Jewish jibes,
And salesmen in the barn;
Or the Newfie warning,
Don't slip on the ice,
Don't ya know, bay, it's hard frozen
.

We've pulled our collective heads out,
We're sniffing old world air.
I liked the self-effacing glibs,
Affected with a brogue.
Now there's a hard line on a country bridge,
Across a brook, or penal school ditch.
It's just not funny any more.
Bleurose Jan 2019
My friends were already far, but someday I had hoped they'd be here. This was a good country but now all the friends I DID have here are running away as fast as their money and work can carry them.

But I must stay. It isn't logical to go just yet.

You have taken something so valuable from me, in an age where loneliness is an epidemic, where suicides are rising, depression consuming the young faster than the plague ever did.


I was already alone.
You have made it worse.
******* Brexit. **** everyone who caused it.
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