Free?

A poem about society in Britain at the moment

Right, Fair, Just
These are words we cannot raise
To enshrine our senseless,
And somewhat fearful days.

No man should contain us,
No pitiful warrior can crusade,
Nor should beggars, soldiers, child
Be imprisoned by his ‘aid’.

Like a glass you show
Your inwards to be,
Bigoted, destructive and hateful,
Fearful of the free.

To be against it is so simple
But to act? We just won’t win.
When the dark spectre hanging above,
Makes caring for freedom a sin.