Sunday 11 July 2010

The World Cup

The World Cup.

Whilst wars wreak havoc,
Upon this wretched world,
Gorging upon atrocities,
You watch groups of grown men,
Kick a bag of air for 90 minutes,
And define your identity,
In relation to its utter inanity.

A planet of pathetic drones,
Conditioned to constantly consume,
Wearing nylon football shirts,
Made in sweat shops by children,
Or in the gulags of red china,
Forgotten by fools who crave,
The dull opiate of its propaganda.

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1 comment:

extant said...

I feel your pain mate..

I was out on my bike yesterday and after I spoke to a few of the lads,I left feeling very frustrated that there is just no telling some people. Even when I present the facts and figures, they still didnt ,couldnt, would not take it in.
I could have been very blunt about it, but choose not to for obvious reasons.
I sometimes sit in despare thinking we patriots are on our own ,we are a dieing breed and no one cares.Even when it happens to them, they will sink back to their pathetic existance and except what has happened to them, just like its normal.
The only time we will have a revival is when we are under serious seige, or we get working on those communities years prior to elections.
Optimism makes us much better people, leave the pessimism to the drones !