My Brexit Poem
Preamble: I know some folk are not going to like this, but it's my right to be angry and I don't care who knows it.
Live version on Youtube:
On the 30th of March 2019
I shall wake up significantly older
And no longer European.
What a great birthday present history has prepared for me -
After 4 decades on this planet, “we’re revoking your Europeanity!”
And I don’t know what bugs me more:
My weakness in the face of accelerating years
Or having something stolen from me by the Brexiteers.
A manufactured mandate from a fumbled referendum
A decision us misled masses were unqualified to make
They say “the people have spoken”
But with so much freedom of mis-information based on lies and hate
It feels like democracy is broken.
I’m trying hard to respect those who believed the pro-leave press
And fell for lies on buses about the NHS
I try hard to keep my anger for those truly to blame
They sold us down the river with their own petty games
of ambition and pride
They gambled our nation, and lost
Took us all for a ride
and we’ll be paying the cost for generations to come.
So I’m told I should be proud to be British.
Well, I can be grateful, but not proud of an accident of birth
As it can’t in any way be a measure of what I’m worth.
And when it comes to our nation, I have gratitude more than pride
For those who serve their country, for those who’ve fought and died
So that we might still live our British ways of life.
I will grieve for them and I will pray their sacrifice wasn’t in vain
Was that not what our Europe was for, to stop such horrors happening again?
And there’s no reason to limit this to European frontiers
For the lines drawn on a map are really neither there nor here
We’re all citizens of the World, card-carrying members of the human race
Worth no more or less than any other, at any time or place.
I'm afraid there’s always been and will always be injustice, war and strife
I’ll get mad enough to fight it, but not to let it ruin my life.
I get it that I’m lucky enough to shape my destiny
And old enough to know that my happiness is up to me.
There’s nothing I can do against time’s fated advance:
But for staying European – I think I'll move to France.