Blame

I am silenced by the gutless, in their towers of ivory and gold, muted into violence, as all of my cards they hold.

Bastardised by a label, I am England's forgotten son. Look what the system has done to me mother, just look what the bastards have done.

These six years that have been wasted, confined in a home that's a tomb. These six years I have felt so frustrated, like a child that's trapped in the womb.

With a Borderline Personality, that's been twisted from blessing to curse, as I look upon this land that I love, I can only see things getting worse.

Supported by the society, that stamped the crippling blow, now this son of England, will expire the great unknown.

It is doubtful that just a handful of words, will raise my place on this earth. I am one of the silent many, who will never get what they deserve.

While rival political parties, spill their seed in each others mouths, it is easy to become disheartened, as all of England drowns.

So listen up "prime minister", as you cast your burden of shame, the system in place, is a bloody disgrace, you as "leader", the man whose to blame.