I walk along on cracked paving stones in a fractured city
With feelings of sadness and anxiety, yet I try to be witty
When asked for my opinion on a political topic,
Despite fears that our future will be fraught and dystopic.
It’s hard to be optimistic with people sleeping on the street,
Ragged clothes on their shoulders, cups of change by bare feet
Discarded by a failing society of the elite
In nylon rubbish bags on a concrete trash heap.
While our attention is focused on nostalgic ideas
Of going back to blue passports and “cheerio, my dears,”
We’re missing problems at home, we should look at ourselves
Before casting blame on migrants or refugees or elves
Or whatever other magical, mystical scapegoat we find,
When it comes to our own faults we seem to be blind.
So if we’re ever to repair this damage that we’ve done
We need to stand and be counted and united as one,
Rebuild and regrow what once was abundant,
Beauty and friendships and all that seems redundant
In this world of “us and them” and he who has more
Where the little guy loses, this can’t be what’s in store
For my children and yours, the next generation,
Let’s not have our nation end up in isolation.