It Aint Half Cold Mum

Enclaves, ghettos a little piece of home,
The factorys, gone and a Mosque appears
Don’t discuss immigration – it’s not allowed
It’s racist to mention your fears.

The crown of the Great British Empire
Invites all her friends to stay,
Language isn’t a barrier,
But don’t forget to pray.

Bring all your problems with you
We haven’t got enough of our own,
Crack cocaine, yardies and murder
We want you to feel at home.

Mother is wounded, bleeding to death
Cut by a thousand swords,
Clothes tattered and torn, beauty despoiled,
Raped by the swarming hordes.

Seek the Asylum. Political or Lunatic?
The streets are all paved with gold
Slip from the truck at the motorway services
“By golly it ain’t half cold!”

©Rosewing