Thursday, 22 December 2011

England 11

It has been a while since I last posted anything. Here is a sonnet.

England 11

Once cricket, today violence reigns o’er sport,

Then modesty, tonight youth bare thy flesh

There, value of intelligence was taught

Your generation mean to start afresh

You crave and long for your fame and fortune,

Work not hard nor respect the trodden path

Instead expect, demand, it all too soon

‘Give me thy all else receive my wretch’d wrath’

Angry flames engulf my favoured cities

Eloquently protesting without aim

You sit, judge, sit, consume and spread disease

Bank accounts and bellies fatten. No shame.

If only you could plump instead your minds

Not follow, but question, open my blinds