I wrote this poem a while back and for some born in my “era” 🙂 enjoy.
This is England.
A land of stiff upper lips and whisky soaked judges. Where there is hope and glory and strong reserved grudges.
The sun rises high over fields of gold, crack house drug dens, secrets never to be told.
The baker’s oven, to the dirty dozen. Housewives to house arrest, chalk and cheese.
Gossipy neighbors fences divide them, Children at play love in side them.
Feed a cold, starve a fever, early birds catching worms. We look before we leap we pray before we sleep.
A wonderland for Alice, a town called Malice.
The price is right, check book and pen, The TV goes off! who are we then?
A Game of Life, trouble and strife,
Who slept with who – YOUR MY FATHER!!!, She said, he said what a palava.
Weather by Wincy, Dale being mincy, The supermarkets bare!
My little ponies chill with my homies, peppery pigs who care.
Doctor who!? Its called the flu.
Welcome to England