Truth Hurts

 

Just twenty-two you say,

Still making excuses and pointing the finger

Well my dear lady if that’s what you’re called,

Standby and dig in for home truths coming round,

     At twenty-one my very own birthday,

I was calling in search and rescue

On jungle patrols,

At twenty-three I was part of Gulf Operations

And at twenty-five I was present in Balkans,

Not whipping children or humiliating at schools

But let’s look a little closer at all your demands

While the Man of Great Britain is laughed at by

Both Russian and Americans alike,

     You came to power

Back when I was so young,

Took away all apprentice-ships,

Took away engineering

And manufacturing too

     You took away industry that kept

Britain aloft,

Now you’re scoffing at man

As he heads off to war,

You take away homes,

You take away jobs,

You take away children

Backed up by the Laws,

     You’ve belittled your men folk

Declaring all of them gay,

And when they respond

You’re crying it’s rape,

     Well I’m not so soft to be

Chained to the apron

You still hide behind,

As I know what you do

With divisive a mind,

If you insult me I’ll insult you back,

If you hit my face I will,

Slap you back,

     And I’m not so pig headed

To know not all women are to blame

But back in the day Britain had faith,

Now her status is gone,

Robbed by the woman who scorns at her man,

     And now you’re pointing the finger

While the kids without fathers

Walk streets not giving a damn,

And still you’re pointing the finger,

Pointing not realizing the mistakes

Of generations gone by;

     Now build your own schools,

Build your own hospitals

And fight your own wars,

Bury your dead and play the last post,

Then look for the gene pool

To swellen your womb,

And when you’ve married

And declared your spouse

‘not man enough’

     Consider the embryo

Engineered in labs,

     Man is bending over backwards

Giving all that you want

But time and time again

It’s still not enough,

You want it all and when the shit

Hits the fan,

     You’ll point the finger again

At the Great British Man,

The Great British Man who fought

Many a war,

Came home a cripple

To work in a factory

Despite all his tears……….

 

    ………. We’re all in this together,

We’re all paying the price,

We’re here with new generations

We don’t want – neglect,

We want our children to have

The chance we never had,

But it ain’t goona come easy

While pointing the finger,

Blaming the Great British Man,

For we’re now paying the price

For all that were crippled

All that were mistaken

As not giving a damn,

     Stop wondering why

So much disrespect,

For you’re trying - change

The biology we have,

     We all love our women

As is apparent in what we’ve

Give up,

     Now healing is needed,

The healing of children

Be they boys or girls,

Or the only winner in the future,

Will not be the belligerent finger,

But the destruction of a Nation

Built by her men.

 

Michael J Waite.