they will bang their blue passports as the less well of start to cough and choke on the views to vile the wealthy just make jokes as they play pass the parcel i see daylight, but not through the windows on such fat and filthy castles we will soon revive the tradition of merry street bonfires hoping that the flames do not climb higher and consume their muddy dreams of sweet tasting victorian empire all this muddled thinking, reason and sense has been out drinking and it has come home, all alone and in such a state we did not vote leave but a mandate to verify hate and greed
The Boy Behind The Glasses. Poetry and Writing 