Sunday, 7 November 2010

Democratic Hypocracy

The hypocrisy of this democracy
Is simply astounding to me.
We charge into enemy territory
To impose democratic civility,
Whilst our own society
Is built upon lies and hostility.

Are we really free?
Free to be whoever we want to be?
Or are we indeed duped into hypnotic lethargy,
Through a series of therapeutic ideologies.
We’re subliminally told to get degrees, forge families,
And why?  So we can be happy?
Or is it so we spend more money and vote in the corrupt MP’s.
 Who Ignore the kids getting D’s and taking E’s
In order to make more hard currency.

We seem to have the ability to ignore the self indulgency
Of those that succeed, smile and pretend to be happy
Even though others bleed to death in the alley
Of some fucked up city.
And this is what it is to be free?
Easy like A B C, 1 2 3
Or deporting the wrong nationality.
Who even voted the Tories?
I’d sooner see the tooth fairy in power,
Than Cameron and Cleggy.

Surely we must have sensed something was wrong?
When the kids started skipping school
To play with each other’s Wii,
Killing each other obsessively overseas
On Call of Duty, with M16’s on their PS3’s.

It’s fucking crazy.

How can we pretend to show
 Empathy and hospitality,
To those of foreign creeds
When we bomb the shit out of their homes
Because of men with beards, who fundamentally believe that democracy is a disease?

Or is it really about that most precious oil?
Which BP can afford to spill relentlessly,
For months at sea, and then the presidency
Of the ‘Land of the Free’ has the indecency
To plea that he’s angry at a company
Which represents exactly what is wrong with his own country.

But then again this is all forgettable.
Over a nice cup of tea, in front of the telly.
Watching celebrities ridicule those
With special needs, who can’t sing properly.

Isn’t that un-P.C?

Or is it easily covered up like police brutality,
Shown in our streets to millions on the BBC.
It frightens me to see such nationwide stupidity
Lapped up in 60 inch HD, 3D-TV
Every one of these, three hundred
And sixty,
Five days a year.
Teach me how to escape the reality of this fallacy
Before we tear down and burn the last tree.
I want to see the sea just one last time
Before it dries up completely.

I can’t even tell if this is poetry anymore
Or just therapy. 

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