Wednesday, 2 September 2015

The Sea of the Dead.

Upon the waves
The Swarm it floated,
In coloured boats
Much overloaded.

To the gates of Hellas
From Samarkand,
To escape from hell
They've fled their lands.

And striking out
Across the sea,
Their prized possessions
sat on their knee.

Children as young as
Two and four,
They brought them with them
By the score.

They risked their future
Their blood, Their kin?
They're only trying
To save their skin!

But Farage, Cameron
And the rest,
Dressed for TV
in their Sunday best.

Spout hateful bile
About 'The Swarm',
making their language of hate
Our TV norm!

Aided and abetted
By our right wing press.
They call these humans
'Sub' - or something less.

And The Guardianistas
bitch like hell,
because we dare to post
'The Migrants' hell?

They're not Migrants
You ignorant fucks.
They are Refugees,
They are sitting ducks.

Who have fled their homes
From across the sea
And risked it all.
How bad must it be?

That mothers would risk it all,
Risk their beloved sons.
That father's would risk their daughters,
Their prized treasured ones.

But you sit there
Idle and regurgitate, 
Cameron's words
filled with hate,

about how these Migrants
take your jobs?
You stupid, ignorant
Fucking slobs!

Meanwhile out upon the sea
'The Swarm' they float.
But no longer on
their sunken boats.

For the sea has boiled
From all the hate you raved,
their  bodies bloated
and Europe saved?

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