(An open letter in the style of that ‘Spoken Word’ I hear so much about)
This is an open letter, to my friends across the pond,
Whom I love so dearly for your eccentricities and hyperboles
But now I fear, like the Hanging Pen of Damocles,
That a wrong X could mark the mightier spot... where a once great nation stood.
After it had done such good...
The battles that your nation fights, right now,
are much upon the world’s eye view.
The race is on, for red and blue.
And though I make no statement here,
For i’m not there, so that’s neither here nor there,
I must admit that “I a problem share”.
I hear the words, that are soon to be just recordings or an echo.
A Prime of many dimensions, in our opinion...
a jolly nice fellow.
I hear the voice of reason,
I hear the ever present care,
We hear, over here, from a man with Wisdom, sincere
And it seems abundantly clear...
What you face.
For we too face a question soon,
And fear the wrong X with it brings some histrionic doom.
We face the option of closing off our borders,
Like some plague ridden victim, too sick to be seen,
“We’ll sweat out the worst, and keep in the clean”.
Or keep the windows open for breeze,
And see if a little free, doesn’t half help us to breathe.
I’ve never had a problem in my life,
That wasn’t harder to solve without help.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t, but isn’t to refuse it
The very definition of to harm one’s self?
Well, My friend’s across the pond, let us be United,
For we are a Kingdom,
And you are a State,
But isn’t the whole point of this,
just because we’re different,
doesn’t mean that we can’t be mates?
From my experience it’s simple,
It doesn’t matter what Creed, Colour or Country,
What religion Which Race, which sex, gender or preference.
There are good people.
And there are F*********s
And wouldn't it be easy to say "the latter are usually rich people...
who are bringing drugs, they are bringing crime,
They are rapists... and some, I assume are good people.”
I hoist him, of course, on his own petard,
If you’re rich, i’ve no problem with you,
It’s just so easy to do, with such low hanging fruit.
He is a clown, we laugh we jest,
As quietly nod, the acquiescent rest.
We have those fools here, who stumble and fumble,
And speak in barking vomits of vitriol,
Peristaltically pushed through pinch-pursed visage.
And hide it all beneath this comedy image...
So, of what do the reporters make us aware?
Well, the greatest trick the Devil pulled,
Was making the world think he wasn’t there.
So my friend’s across the Pond,
Unite with us in doing right,
Don’t shut away, stay open-doored and coloured-bright.
Don’t laugh away the meaning of the words,
It de-fangs the beast, but not-declaws.
And when you step into that booth just pause...
Should we be United in both name and in deeds?
Should we not weigh holding onto long term good,
Against scrabbling at short term Greed?
Well, if you’re not bothered, either way,
Don’t you DARE not turn up that day.
What statement could you possibly have to make,
To cut the freedom from your life just to spite your fate?
There are countless graves of silenced-people,
Who gave life to lend volume to your voice.
Let It be heard.
Let it mean something.
Let it be good.
R
x
