poem 59

she holds the Sickle

he holds the hammer

together standing in constant pride

in front of golden gilded prison

where inside just one family

lies down upon an inherited frown

at their doors whispers bishops

whose very breath is the key

for a  lock made in capitalist creed

while mi5 sits by there bedside

and tell of sweet lullalies

just so they sleep well tonight

and outside there railings

shaped of unknown eyes

who pray to a god man made inside

just to know it all won't stop

and in their submissive state of ecstasy    

cry …..."nothing is enough for me".

as your child goes to war again

hart break i meet his broken body

looking up he said  “it all right”

but to his only eye, i say “i hope you’re right”

as he wheels away i hear a scream

from a distant wheel turning

thats just turned once again

she holds the hammer

he holds the  Sickle

both stand staring unblinking

upon a golden gilded prison

where inside you can hear

an empty echo cry

"how the hell is this a home".

This poem is about two statue i found standing right in front of buckingham palace, I believe this to be one of the remarkable juxtaposition in all Europe.


Below is the link to there location on the map.
https://www.google.co.uk/maps/@51.501752,-0.13884,16z