How long before the nation goes under the hammer

and its people sold as slaves to counteract

the weight of expectancy being urged

in a propaganda battle against Humanity?

 

Part of me wants them to fight on,

to deliver a black eye to the lords of high finance

and make them blush for the years they treated

a proud nation to the point where they become

the equivalent of Poundland,

the cheap shopping centre for the sun blessed and

morally out of step as they forget that the point

of life is not to treat someone with the contempt

that comes with chucking a few pence their way

and saying in a loud, condescending

and sneer driven voice over the last bottle

of ever cheaper local spirit,

“That of course you would like to give more

but they just don’t understand how tough we have it,

after all Sky doesn’t come free does it?”

 

The part of me though fears

to where this will lead, to what end

is being played out and the might

of force that will come down hard

on the heads of the ordinary man

and woman of Greece, after all, a suit can always

be found to attend a funeral

and the mourning of a nation will

capture the headlines above the sight of possible

anarchy in a far of land,

the sound of the same man who waved a

fiver in the face of the poor

twisted in perplexed thought, “Well, it just wouldn’t

happen here would it?”

 

Ian D. Hall 2015