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The world is too sedate
So take it by the throat and shake!
Oh, do not fear to stand your ground
And to defend the wrongs that you have found.
Fear not the tyrant’s grasp
His acid tongue or rasp
Of boots on floor as they bash down your door
And beat you to the floor.
Stand firm and fight.
You know what’s right.
Till peace and good here do abound,
I’ll not be bound.
I’ll make a noise, I’ll scream, I’ll shout
And not allow one little doubt
To cloud my thoughts of the way we are
And the way it all could be.

But then I get off my soapbox and reflect.
All’s quite good here, when all is said and done
We are rich here and content.
The bastards govern by our consent.
They are all fighting o’er the middle ground.
Tanks on our lawn will not be found.

And I am grateful.

A little pause for thought, though.
Let’s think that this is not the way
For others in this great wide world.

Injustice, harshness, cruelty, death,
The daily grind, no chance,
No choice, no food,
No water, schools,
The slog.
Despots, tyrants, kings,
Who all ride roughshod
O’er people good and fair and just,
Whose only crime was to be born
In foreign lands.

Yes, let us laugh at politicians near
And know that things go smoothly here,
But spare a thought, or give a pound
For those on more bloody ground.

© Richard Strong, April 2010