wordswithpixwithwords

Parched of memories

to call our own

It’s coming home.

Not to the imagined green

and pleasant land

But a sunburnt red

and  white

face painted nation

The lies and truths

are coming home

chanted, invented,

spoken and broken.

For all to praise

our NHS,

 at 70 years old

and see it

buried at 71.

This is no Love Island

but a state of

us and them

United  for as long

as it took to be

defeated.

Its coming home

but only for some

Its coming home

but

only for them