The Useful Ones
all these thoughts I have as spares
rattling in my hollow head
fortunes spent having carried the brave
whilst the useful ones are left for dead
my thoughts are now an empty corpse
staggering forth into the dust
towards a dimly lit brave new world
where treason is rent, and freedom is sold
London, I lost you years ago
having fallen beyond antiquity
it’s not the place it use to be
half the world now live here for free
you claim ‘enrichment’ is good for me
whilst you rape me of my identity
fallen empires burnt by the sun
always exhaust the useful ones
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