What would you do?

by justbekozlowski

What would you do?
If you had to move?
If you had all that you needed,
That you had to just lose?

What would you do?
If they knocked at your house,
And told you to leave,
‘Quiet as a mouse’?

What would you do,
If you woke up one day?
The houses you’d built,
Were all taken away.

The years you spent building,
Were all of them, in vain,
As someone has decided,
You should feel shame.

‘Shame for being you,
How dare you do that?!’
Of course you can choose,
Where you’re born and that’s that.

I don’t often swear,
But fuck all of this,
Theresa May holding hands,
With a point that she missed.

‘It will surely get better,
Before it gets worse’,
There’s the optomist, dead,
In the back of a hearse.

Well it’s time to stand up,
And climb up the tower,
As rumpelstiltskin’s gross wig,
Might look quite sleek, but is secretly sour.

There’s a madman in charge,
And he’s carving our names,
On a long list of gravestones,
Or newly-forged chains.

Let’s steal his pen,
Swap the ink with his blood,
Just to see if he feels,
Each name he drags through the mud.

The people aren’t happy,
And neither is he,
Let’s see if we can make,
One man, not many, flee.