Poetry – The English

The English

 

The English, of which I am part,

Are a strange tribe,

In search of identity;

Denying their heritage,

In Germany,

France and Italy,

Denmark, Sweden and Norway,

Our European ancestry.

Many believing that we have always been here,

Or were parachuted in from outer space,

As ‘god’s’ chosen race,

Confused,

As to what it is to be English.

And fail to embrace

Their family.

Clothed in parody,

In caricature.

Some full of arrogance,

Bloated with superiority,

Xenophobically challenged.

In reality

We are no tribe at all;

A conglomerate,

A hybrid,

A mongrel group,

Whose identity

Melts

Into uncertainty.

We are the English.

 

Opher – 12.6.2020

I'd like to hear from you...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.