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
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