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Saturday, November 16, 2024

The Sea of the Dead

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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?

Kanjin Tor

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